Joe Bush dot Net

For decades, milk “chocolate” has been a staple food of the American home. Ever since William H. Hershey invented milk “chocolate,” it has dominated America and taken over the brains of our citizens, parents, and children alike.

I was once one of those alike. As of last week, I am not. I will only, and I mean only, eat chocolate with more than 50% cocoa content. I will only, and I mean only, eat chocolate bars that I have to pay at least six dollars for. And when it comes to those little packs with all of the little Hershey’s with the Krackel and Mr. Goodbar and the Dark Chocolate ones that get left until the end of the bag, I’ll be eating only the end of the bag. The end of the bag for others is the start of the bag for me. Here are ways that eating only the sweet bitterness (there should really be one easy word for that idea, I’ll think of one at some point) has changed my life around:

1. I will live forever

This might be a big claim, but I really might just never die. If I live forever, and at this point I plan to, I have dark chocolate to thank for it. One only gets to live once, unless you’re me, in which case I’m still only going to get to live once just for a long time, probably forever unless something drastic changes.

2. Language means nothing to me anymore

I was going to say that I know every language thanks to dark chocolate, but that would mean that one can really “know” a language. Language is a construct of humans, of society, not something we’re born into – just like a love of milk “chocolate”. No baby is born eating garbage. No baby is born eating high quality bweeterness (a mix of bitterness and sweetness, alluded to earlier on in this oeuvre), either. You have to decide. No baby is born speaking French, or Italian, they have to make the choice to learn it and survive. This is what I have done. I do not know English, or French, or Japanese anymore, I know everything. Language, communication is all irrelevant, even posting on this “web log” is just me stepping down to your level, reader and eater of milk “chocolate”, in a way I’m sort of mocking you but I’m the only one who understands how.

3. I eat it with coffee sometimes

I hate myself and I need bitterness all the time

It’s good. Well, it’s not, but I’ve hardened my body to believe that it is.

4. I will never die

I don’t know if I’ve stated this yet, but I’m somewhere between a mortal and some sort of mortal that cannot die

5. I will be starting at Strong Safety for the New York Jets this weekend

On a 60%-87% cocoa based diet, I have found myself more agile, with greater immediate acceleration than 60-87% of the populace, and better at watching the eyes of that harlot Ryan Tannehill of the insatiable Miami Dolphins. The greedy hogs from The Southern Most Beach will face my wrath as I utilize perfect Zone Coverage and Double Coverage and Delayed Blitzes to turn the Dolphins into Harlequins, and by Harlequins I mean losers upon the Field of Game. I am an athlete, the likes of which I, the Jets, or the Unsalvageable Dolphins have ever seen, and the world of Almond Joy enjoying, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup munching, Skittle eating, Vegetable eating, Raw Beef Eating krum-bums will Face My Wrath.

6. I have acquired a taste for everything

There is nothing I do not taste. Nothing i do not love slamming down my throat. Except for Milk “chocolate”, that is. Get that shit out of my face from now until forever. But, yeah – Diet Mountain Dew? Done. Lutefisk? No Problem. PepsiCoffee, the drink which is fifty percent pepsi and fifty percent coffee? Don’t even ask, I drink that shit down, boys.

Look, I’m not better than you because I eat dark chocolate. I’m just better than me because I eat dark chocolate, and almost dark chocolate alone at this point. I do not pity you. I do not envy you. There’s a reason it’s called “Special” Dark, Hershey’s.

Please do not say “Dumbo Boy Made a Big Mess”. I am not Dumbo Boy, and I did not make the big mess. I did not throw the fifteen jars of Planter’s peanuts on the ground, so many of them thrown in some attempt to make a big mess now that the Planter’s company apparently hates glass and the satisfying explosion that comes from throwing one single glass jar of Planter’s peanuts on a tile floor.

I am not to blame for the twenty-two half-eaten Reese’s Peanut Butter cups on the floor of Aisle 6 of the Walgreen’s on 29th street. I cannot be held responsible for the fact that the first of the two Reese’s cups always tastes better than the second one, and it should be on the shoulders of the Reese’s people, possible Reese himself, to make the flavor intensity of the two cups more consistent between all cups and all cups packages.

The actual image is far too gruesome so please enjoy this stock photo

Like the Verve Pipe guy, I can’t be held responsible for the eight or nine Hostess Sno Balls that were stomped upon here in Aisle 6. It is not my fault for stomping on them, and it is not my fault that Sno Balls are superior food to be opened, then smushed upon with a bare foot in order to create a lovely sensation of creme and coconut between one’s little toesies. I do not recommend eating these, by the way. I didn’t put them there but don’t worry.

Nutella, while a delicious mix of hazelnut and chocolate in a tartinade spread, is not to be spread evenly across the shelves of Aisle 6 here at the 29th Street Walgreens. This, unfortunately, through no malpractice of my own, is the case. It’s a big ol’ mess, though I admire the craftsmanship of the person who did it.

I must say again, that I am not Dumbo Boy, and that if I am Dumbo Boy, Dumbo Boy did NOT Make a Big Ol Mess in Aisle 6 of the 29th Street Walgreens. Please stop printing that on shirts, Mitchell.

I do not know who made this mess. It’s not me, but think of who’s the ones doing the bad things nowadays? Is it the mild-mannered Walgreens Photo Clinic Guy who still does a “surprisingly thorough job with developing disposable camera photos even in this day and age” to quote Chloë Markesson, age 23 from Louisville, Kentucky??? No. It is not I. You see the headlines. You see this particular headline, Mitchell.

It’s the millennials. Blame the damn millennials because they’re the ones making a mess out of our economy, our country, our art scene, our understanding of literature, our interpretation of certain paintings, our Cable TV Channels they changed again Meredith and I can’t get to ESPN 2, and god damn it, yes, the Millennials have Messed Up our Fair Snack/Peanut/Soda aisle.