Virgil Evetts

As much as I might convince myself that I have sophisticated, urbane tastes, embarrassing, childish regression keeps bubbling to the surface. Perhaps I should explain…

 I just can’t help it, I really can’t but I’ve developed a serious weakness for pink hundreds and thousands biscuits. How can this be? They’re horrible- well they should be – but I can’t stop buying and devouring them by the packet-load.

And I might as well come clean – this isn’t the only very-bad-food–indeed obsession I’ve been through and I fear it won’t be the last. First there was the Pringles and wine gums phase, then the milk bottles and glow-heart (sweets) period, cheese flavoured crackers, sherbet dabs, M&Ms, raspberry liquorice straps…

 I’m pretty sure it’s a nostalgia thing tied up with childhood denial or something, but I’m 33 for crying out loud!

Please say I’m not alone in my cringe-food fetishes. Name your shame…

 

 

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