Summer of the Dark Chocolate Twix

I never thought that I would be the type to have this kind of obsession. Looking at the situation from an objective standpoint, there's really no reason I should be surprised. I have a relatively addictive personality, I suppose. I smoked like a zealot for a number of years until I realized that I liked to be able to run without dragging an oxygen tank behind me. I read books like they are going out of style, no matter what more pressing obligations are thereby placed indefinitely on the backburner. I play ultimate as if life itself depends upon my continually donning the cleats and the cleat-feet to accompany them. So I tend to submerge myself in the things that interest me. But candy? Candy? I was at Target a few short weeks ago and I managed to purchase 25 Dark Chocolate Twix bars because they were half price and because they are delicious. They are limited edition, you see, so I felt it was worth it to shell out $24.00 and keep the little twin sticks of goodness in the freezer. Lord knows if I would ever be able to purchase them again. I should have known I have a problem at that point. There were only 24 by the time I got home from Target and now, if you'll allow me a moment to count, there are 20. Dwindling numbers. Sigh. I cannot stop buying these candy bars. On the way to Tennessee this weekend for the SMUT tournament we stopped for gas at a BP and, lord in heaven, they had the Twix and I bought five. Five! Who does that? I intended to give them out over the course of the weekend to those who exhibited stellar ability on the ultimate pitch. Of course that means that I ate one during a rain delay, gave one to O-face who drove me to the tourney, managed to give one to Futureman for a pretty spectacular lay-out D, tried to give one each to Stephen and Jess, but, remarkably, those and the last one are all missing. At the moment I am trying not to immediately return to one of the two pages I found where you can buy these candy bars in bulk. I need to remember that I do not need to shell out $30.00 for candy. But see, that's the problem with addiction. It does not bow to rational thought. Your need is a monkey on your back, cracking his little whip, compelling you to fix. Damn Twix.