I am bored, so bored that I am having to write a pointless post just to keep me from getting up and looking on the fridge for something to do (take that as eat). Incidentally the fridge is devoid of anything remotely edible as I haven't been shopping (yes that would be a cure for my boredom - no-one said I was logical), so unless I am thinking of consuming the contents of the assorted condiment jars that line the top shelf, most of which have been there for at least a year, then I would be at a loss there anyway.
I know however that in the cupboard there is a secret stash of the forbidden brown stuff, all wrapped up in a lovely purple wrapper, crying out to be stuffed in my mouth. I can almost smell the sweet creamy aroma, feel the individual squares beneath my fingers, hear the crack as I snap a chunk off and... well I daren't imagine the actual eating.
Oh Mr Cadbury why did you have to be so good at making chocolate?
Must resist, can't give in, I will not eat you DAIRY MILK!!!
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