You never know what you're gonna get
Isn't life a box of chocolates?
I mean: you get the best Belgian chocolate thrown at your face, but off course, you're not hungry. "Not right now, I've had quite enough. I have to watch my weight, sorry. Looks nice, gotta run."
You just leave it there to go to waste. "I'll get plenty of sweets," you're thinking. You turn your back on it and walk away. I'm the man, you can't touch me. "I'm no sweet tooth, I'm tough as nails."
And of course you are. Hard shell. Tough nut to crack.
And then the craving starts. At first it's really subtle. You just remember a smell, a colour. You tell yourself it's gonna go away. You get some substitute Snickers and make yourself belief it's the real shit. You stuff your face, but it only makes you feel nauseous. Then it keeps you up at night, until you would even go for those chocolate covered raisins: you just suck of the chocolate and spit out the raisins...
Then you remember. The dark fondant covering, the subtle almond stuffing and the slightest hint of Grand Marnier. That one special chocolate you left in the box. And you know some other bastard will be stuffing his face shortly and not appreciating the delicate flavours.
Isn't life a box of chocolates?
Isn't life a box of chocolates?
I mean: you get the best Belgian chocolate thrown at your face, but off course, you're not hungry. "Not right now, I've had quite enough. I have to watch my weight, sorry. Looks nice, gotta run."
You just leave it there to go to waste. "I'll get plenty of sweets," you're thinking. You turn your back on it and walk away. I'm the man, you can't touch me. "I'm no sweet tooth, I'm tough as nails."
And of course you are. Hard shell. Tough nut to crack.
And then the craving starts. At first it's really subtle. You just remember a smell, a colour. You tell yourself it's gonna go away. You get some substitute Snickers and make yourself belief it's the real shit. You stuff your face, but it only makes you feel nauseous. Then it keeps you up at night, until you would even go for those chocolate covered raisins: you just suck of the chocolate and spit out the raisins...
Then you remember. The dark fondant covering, the subtle almond stuffing and the slightest hint of Grand Marnier. That one special chocolate you left in the box. And you know some other bastard will be stuffing his face shortly and not appreciating the delicate flavours.
Isn't life a box of chocolates?
New York's Salary Men and Women
It's New York magazine's 2005 Salary Survey , and the lesson is clearly: The city is full of rich people who are not you.
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Posted by Anonymous | 19 September, 2005 20:10
Love is a catastrophe
Posted by Piglet | 20 September, 2005 07:34
Always better than the disgusting Cadbury's
Posted by Anonymous | 20 September, 2005 12:21
zo voelt't inderdaad als je te laat hoort dat je "touch" hebt
Posted by DVLMN | 20 September, 2005 20:20
Thank you!
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