DELICIOUS CHILLED OR FROZEN: A TRAVEL ODYSSEY THROUGH PEANUT BUTTER UNTIL YOU REACH THE MILK CHOCOLATE CANOPY

A few things I noticed lately:

1) the table isn't black–it's dark chocolate!

2) there's no way that the word 'cup' was written by the same man or woman who wrote 'Reese's'–clearly, it was written by a child. I am guessing he was nine and enjoyed a good game of jacks.

3) I am not sure what is falling out of that icebox, but it looks very delicious and nuggety and I think it is supposed to be peanut butter. If my grandfather were alive (the Swiss one, who had a moustache) I would ask him if they used to store peanut butter nuggets in the icebox. This was of course before 'refrigerators.'

4) I wonder where 'CHOCOLATE TOWN' is. If it is in Hershey, Pennsylvania, you don't need iceboxes there, at least in winter! You can keep your chilled and frozen Reese's Peanut Butter Cups on the window sill, because they don't smell like hot apple pies which the kids used to steal from the window sills back when Jimmy Cagney was in the movies, but not later when he got a little rotund for obvious reasons.

5) Last night I dreamt my car and I were at the mechanic's and they asked how it was running and I said "GREAT!" and so they said, "Then why are you here?"

6) Anything that has been made since 1923 must be good.

7) I think that 1923 was the MANLIEST year of all time: Charlton Heston, James Arness, Norman Mailer, George Patton, Chuck Yeager, Hank Williams, Rocky Marciano, James Dickey, Jean Stapleton, Dexter Gordon, Alan Shepard, The Fabulous Moolah and Frank Sutton. Gee Whiz! You could cut it with a knife. The manliness, I mean.

7a) Just kidding about the Jean Stapleton thing.

8) But seriously, I just fell asleep at the desk. And I had a dream. I dreamed that I was swimming in a rich, creamy layer of smooth peanut butter, and my head rose through the surface of delicious milk chocolate, but I wasn't swimming–I was drowning. Was I going to die? No. Thank God for that old smiling guy in the seersucker suit who held out his hand and pulled me out of the tasty confection of my deepest and darkest fears–he was happy and quite strong and very snappy for an older gent. I am guessing, and this is only a guess: 81. Nope, he wasn't my grandpa. I really do wish he was, though.


all artwork, including handsome monsters and most photographs but not crinkly devilish types, ® mr. crispy flotilla, 2008