Sometime before Valentines Day a meme started going around about chocolate anuses available for purchase and there was a high resolution, close up photo of 3 said chocolates in their artisan chocolate box .......... just ready for sale and consumption. Now, google it if you must ...... CAREFULLY ....... But I know you saw it because you are on FB ....... I know you did ......... and now you can't unsee it.
So began my search for something to say, but there was nothing, I was rendered speechless .......... I know, right?!?!?!
But thanks to the power of insomnia and my extremely immature mind, I have found the words. And I am going to say asshole, like, 2 million times so don't read this around your kids ....... and don't google these chocolates around kids. DON'T, seriously, don't. But, yes, they are real and apparently have been available for purchase for a decade from the company in England which makes them.
This.
"Say it with chocolate", as a slogan, now has a whole new meaning.
This.
Nothing says 'I love you' like 3 chocolate assholes.
This.
At some point well paid people in suits sat around a table and discussed just how many assholes should go in each box of chocolate assholes.
This.
How exactly do you choose the person to make the mold for your asshole chocolates ....... what are those auditions like, exactly? And how many people dialed 911 right at the start of that job interview?
This.
What exactly happens to the mood of your gathering when you bring out the apres dinner chocolates and offer "Pot of Gold? Asshole?"
This.
Being a connoisseur of all things chocolate, I am wondering about the flavour road map which all good chocolatiers include with their selections, and I am wondering about fillings and how they were chosen. Was there discussion around this? Were some flavours just RIGHT OFF THE TABLE? How much laughing was there during this conversation and were the people in the suits invited? Who did their flavour testing? Can you invite friends over to quality test your new assholes? And how exactly does all this change the typical family's "if you eat all the lemon cream assholes before I get one I'll be really angry" dynamic?
This.
I'm Celiac so it is now completely possible, nay necessary, that I could one day find myself calling a company's 1 800 number and asking "are your assholes gluten free?"
This.
It is also now possible to string together words, never reasonably or realistically strung together before. "Hurry home, my assholes are melting" and "Check the best before date, those assholes may be expired" and "Mom is coming over so put out the assholes she gave us for Christmas" and "You kids better not have eaten all those assholes, they were for the guests!" spring immediately to mind. It's not quite going to the moon but in literary terms it's exciting.
This.
Men may find this gift and think themselves a little naughty and adventurous in the giving, but the female recipient of these will feel the same way about these as she does about most lingerie ........... those perfect little puckered assholes just don't represent a woman who has had children .......... gals, I'll give you a moment to explain this to your man. Perhaps share that you didn't even know that Preparation H was a real thing before pregnancy. Perhaps go on a rant about what his offspring have done to your body. Perhaps remind him that he should kiss those children and appreciate the beautiful changes that your body has undergone to get them here and then suggest he buy you something nice like chocolates that don't remind you of those changes. But I digress.
This.
Chocolate assholes are probably a really bad sign. Like, we probably don't deserve opposable thumbs now. I think de-evolution begins now and millions and billions of years from this moment in time, a bunch of monkeys will be sitting around saying "those assholes ruined everything."
This.
My inner germaphobe is shattered. She's still rocking and pacing. It may never stop.
This.
The beautifully philosophical line from Forrest Gump, "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." has now been smarmily answered by the cosmos ........ and it was inevitable. "Yes you do Forrest. You do hon. It will give you assholes."
So began my search for something to say, but there was nothing, I was rendered speechless .......... I know, right?!?!?!
But thanks to the power of insomnia and my extremely immature mind, I have found the words. And I am going to say asshole, like, 2 million times so don't read this around your kids ....... and don't google these chocolates around kids. DON'T, seriously, don't. But, yes, they are real and apparently have been available for purchase for a decade from the company in England which makes them.
This.
"Say it with chocolate", as a slogan, now has a whole new meaning.
This.
Nothing says 'I love you' like 3 chocolate assholes.
This.
At some point well paid people in suits sat around a table and discussed just how many assholes should go in each box of chocolate assholes.
This.
How exactly do you choose the person to make the mold for your asshole chocolates ....... what are those auditions like, exactly? And how many people dialed 911 right at the start of that job interview?
This.
What exactly happens to the mood of your gathering when you bring out the apres dinner chocolates and offer "Pot of Gold? Asshole?"
This.
Being a connoisseur of all things chocolate, I am wondering about the flavour road map which all good chocolatiers include with their selections, and I am wondering about fillings and how they were chosen. Was there discussion around this? Were some flavours just RIGHT OFF THE TABLE? How much laughing was there during this conversation and were the people in the suits invited? Who did their flavour testing? Can you invite friends over to quality test your new assholes? And how exactly does all this change the typical family's "if you eat all the lemon cream assholes before I get one I'll be really angry" dynamic?
This.
I'm Celiac so it is now completely possible, nay necessary, that I could one day find myself calling a company's 1 800 number and asking "are your assholes gluten free?"
This.
It is also now possible to string together words, never reasonably or realistically strung together before. "Hurry home, my assholes are melting" and "Check the best before date, those assholes may be expired" and "Mom is coming over so put out the assholes she gave us for Christmas" and "You kids better not have eaten all those assholes, they were for the guests!" spring immediately to mind. It's not quite going to the moon but in literary terms it's exciting.
This.
Men may find this gift and think themselves a little naughty and adventurous in the giving, but the female recipient of these will feel the same way about these as she does about most lingerie ........... those perfect little puckered assholes just don't represent a woman who has had children .......... gals, I'll give you a moment to explain this to your man. Perhaps share that you didn't even know that Preparation H was a real thing before pregnancy. Perhaps go on a rant about what his offspring have done to your body. Perhaps remind him that he should kiss those children and appreciate the beautiful changes that your body has undergone to get them here and then suggest he buy you something nice like chocolates that don't remind you of those changes. But I digress.
This.
Chocolate assholes are probably a really bad sign. Like, we probably don't deserve opposable thumbs now. I think de-evolution begins now and millions and billions of years from this moment in time, a bunch of monkeys will be sitting around saying "those assholes ruined everything."
This.
My inner germaphobe is shattered. She's still rocking and pacing. It may never stop.
This.
The beautifully philosophical line from Forrest Gump, "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." has now been smarmily answered by the cosmos ........ and it was inevitable. "Yes you do Forrest. You do hon. It will give you assholes."
