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For some people, it’s an easy choice. A thoughtless choice. They know themselves. They know what they want. It doesn’t matter how many options are in front of them, how many different experiences they could have. They’ve lived enough, tried enough, done enough to know exactly what they want when they have to make one of the hardest decisions of humankind.
And then, there are the rest of us. The ones who have panic attacks over a spelling mistake in a text message, or immediately think our family members have died when we don’t get a call back after five minutes. It’s a choice that haunts us. That makes us second guess ourselves. The makes us never able to relax or calm down or be happy.
It’s the choice of a movie theatre candy, and it is not for the fainthearted.
Some people, if not most people, have a go-to. Maybe whenever you go see the 76th Fast and Furious movie, you grab a Reese’s, because you know there’s nothing on Dumbledore’s green Earth that is better than chocolate and peanut butter. Maybe you reach for Buncha Crunch, which is oddly addictive, even if they are just a mixture of chocolate and rice. Hell, maybe you’re a fucking weirdo and forego chocolate for something gummy, like Starbursts or sour worms. Sure, it’s a dumb choice, but I get it, and I’ll probably try to bum something fruity and pink off of you when I finish my own candy before the movie actually starts.
And while some of us know what we want and some of us take years to decide, and we all have different opinions and preferences about what the best candy is, there’s one thing we can (or at least should) all agree on — that Twizzlers are the worst “candy” to ever be created. Ever.
Their waxy, cough syrup flavor mixed with the fact that they have no chocolate and no redeeming taste, makes me furious. It makes me confused. Why would these exist in the same world as Twix? Or Snickers? Or Pretzel M&Ms? How do they have the courage, the audacity, to sit on the shelves next to Nerds Ropes and Sour Patch Kids like they belong? Like they’re not a disgrace to the name of pointless, junk food calories that we’ll regret well into our 50s when our hearts start to fail?
Because the thing is, if I had to choose between Twizzlers and nothing, I’d choose nothing. Hell, I’d choose a second helping of nothing before even having to smell a Twizzler. And I’m not one of those people who just “isn’t in the mood” for something sweet. Or salty. Or artery-clogging. I am always in the mood, as my child-bearing hips like to consistently remind me. But as for Twizzlers? The thought of them gives me a headache, and the taste even more so.
It just makes me wonder if I don’t understand people at all. Time and time again, I see friends reach into free candy buckets (at like, apartment complexes, not from the old man who drives his van up and down the neighborhood), only to pull out bite-sized pieces of vibrant red strings. Who in their right mind would choose to gnaw and slobber on that thick, rope-like chew toy instead of letting a handful of Cookie Dough Bites melt on their tongue and stick to their love handles? What does someone have to go through to pick Twizzlers over literally any other candy? What have they seen? Did their parents not love them? Do they not love themselves?
And sure, while I know Twizzlers aren’t licorice, which is, in fact, its own circle of hell, they’re pretty damn close. And if you’re not planning on passing the candy off to someone you hate in a passive-aggressive gesture, what are you people doing buying them? What are you planning to do with those little red ropes? Give them to a child and teach them that not all candy is good and not all of life is pleasant? Do you intend to eat them while you cry over all the mistakes you’ve made so far in your life, with your horrendous choice of candy at the top? Why are you settling for something that tastes like plastic when you could have literally anything else in the world?
Because if we’re being real, the only reason I can see for buying these is to kill people with them. You tie them up and once they die you can get rid of the murder weapon. Sure, you’d still have to eat the damn things (which is punishment in itself but since you just killed someone you sort of deserve it) but hey, it’s better than doing life in prison. Because do you know what I hear they make you eat in prison? Twizzlers. Forever. Just an endless supply of Twizzlers.
So, please tell me what I’m missing because if I lose another friendship over the fact that I call anyone who selects this candy a fugly little bitch, I’m going to have no friends. Again..
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