When the first Halloween candy hits the shelves, I end up strolling up and down the aisle, debating how badly I really want that bag of crack (called candy corn for legal purposes). This sometimes involves calculations of increase in ass size and potential guilt feelings eating said bag would cause. Usually I'm able to convince myself that the season is long, so if I leave the store and still want it a week later, I can go back and get some. (I employ this strategy with handbags, too.) And this year I've been sooo good, walking right by on my way to the redemption of frozen vegetables.
But I was too cocky. I didn't count on those bastards tracking me down and bringing the candy to me! Damn you Nickelodeon and your delicious press kit.
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