...In which Dibbie gets all fruity about Chocolate

I'm trying man, I'm trying really hard...

I eat too much crap and it's depressing me. It's not that I don't like fruit - in fact I bloody love the stuff. A good strawberry has a kiss of flavour that no artificially created taste could ever hope to emulate and a mouthful of peach (careful now) can invoke in me feelings of a most cliched and pretentious nature. There's something easy about crap though isn't there? You know what you're going to get.

The worst criminal in this battle for olfactory control is chocolate - what a bastard! Chocolate is the Amsterdam window whore of the food world. It loiters in your pysche promising a life changing experience and secretly (or otherwise) you long for its embrace - it's a meaningless embrace though and one for which you will pay dearly. At best it's a decadent memory best kept to one's self, at worst a guilt-ridden quick-fix, a swift knee-trembler in a dark and filthy alleyway.

So why must fruit be hard work? Firstly you have to seek it out - it's hard to find - and badly treated fruit can be just as ugly and worthless as a lump of cheap chocolate (undeniably better for you nevertheless). Convenience shops will have a poor selection, cafeterias will have stagnent bowls of mauled melon if you are lucky but simply pass a dishevelled vending machine and observe the crapucopia within! 

To carry on the metaphore I suppose fruit is more like a caring wife - making sure you don't pile on the pounds, picking you up when you're feeling down, offering that certain something that you just can't get elsewhere and occassionally (and without warning) transferring unwanted bacteria and making you feel bloody awful.

Come on people eat more fruit - more demand means better supply... Oh wait, we eat loads already.

Today's outpourings have been brought to you following two rather disappointingly dry oranges and a Mr Tom Caramel/Peanut snack bar.