Sure, in Africa they have Ebola, in Russia they have Путин, and in China they have, well, barely anything at all. All of that is a walk on rose petals compared to the burden I must bear this night – and every night like it – as I make a snack: do I go with the pink, glittery topping ample with fake fruit additives and fast carbohydrates, or do I go with what – based on the name – I can only assume to be German chocolate sauce?
I believe Kipling was really alluding to my predicament in his famous poem; tonight, team glittery pink won, but we must eternally strive to fill full the mouth of famine. When we pick one, we leave behind the other. Through all the thankless years, cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom, the judgment of your smears.
