on the seventh day of christmas, i dig chicks

So I love these shriveled, borderline disgusting upper-echelon Circus Peanuts, which dress up as chicks and rabbits for easter, and are called, coincidentally, Chicks & Rabbits. I take a lot of heat for this, but there are the occasional converts which make all the heckling worthwhile. But I only love the yellow ones. The blue and orange ones are bitter and they can suck it. I buy the bags that have the most yellows and don't reduce myself to the lowly colours until the tremors kick in. Some people claim there is no difference in taste, and they are obviously impaired. Yellow Chicks & Rabbits rock my world, for a few weeks each year.

The other night I stopped by Jacob's to deliver his birthday gift and was ushered inside by his uber-friendly, hospitable mom, and promptly served half a Costco cake. I hadn't been there in some time, and it was really nice to catch up with Jacob and Jen. Suddenly talk turned to my notorious lust for the Chicks and before I knew it, Jen appeared with this santa bag of yellow ones. I was so afraid I was dreaming. Last year she bought like 25 bags after easter for five cents at some Bi-Mart in Newport or something, and as the year wore on and they shared with others, they confiscated the yellow ones pour moi. I was so touched. I mean, love see no colour, but my taste buds don't have eyes, they just know yellows when they get them.

Thank you guys so much, and no, no fistfuls, I'm savouring them. Nonetheless, if this goose is going to get fat(ter), what better way to pack it on than these glorious Chicks. Jacob and Jen, you rock.