Very recently, I reached a massive milestone in my life: adulthood. It's lovely to be eighteen, and it was a lovely birthday. But the day really isn't the point. The point is that I recieved Frabols: The Bubblegum Ball from two of my best friends.
Now, I love them both deeply, but they must have lost it. These Frabols are probably the least satisfying things I've ever had. If you've ever spent twenty-five cents on a bubblegum machine at the supermarket, you know what I'm talking about. They're the exact same thing.
While I tend to be someone who enjoys and appreciates bubblegum, I can't seem to appreciate these. For one, only a few flavors (or, colors I suppose) are even good. (I've found purple to be my favorite, and orange is just nasty). But what really is the problem is that the flavor (color) only lasts for about thirty seconds before the Frabols descends into a pit of bland yuck.
So I'm left popping an unsatisfying Frabols into my mouth, chewing it for a minute at most, and then spitting it out into a tissue only to grab for another Frabols in the next motion. I don't know why I do this, it just happens. It's like the Frabols control my life now.
In (completely un)related news, I woke up this morning with the fabulous intention to spend a lot of time writing Eventide today. Unfortunately I did noth-
Dear God, the yellow Frabols are the worst yet! They taste like nail polish!
-ing of the sort. I did chores, and university-prep stuff, but no writing. Actually, I take that back. I wrote... a grand total of thirty words today. Well, I never was one to make deadlines or achieve goals anyway.
-Lauren-
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