8:00 pm, September 19th, 2029.
Location: The YMCA in Chorley.
There's a room. It's full of downhearted people, many of them wearing vests. In fact, a lot of people in this room have showed up in theie dressing gowns this evening.
The seats are arranged in a circle around the room. There's an extremely official looking woman with a clipboard, and she motions towards a man, chubby, in his early 40's. She's beckoning him to stand before the rest of the group and present himself. He's wearing glasses. His hair, greying around the roots, has receeded to reveal what looks like an over sized forehead. He's dressed in his pyjamas, and there are crumbs around his bottom lip. He stands.
"Hello everyone. My name is Kyle, and I'm an addict. But I haven't had a biscuit for 20 minutes. Except this one that I had in my pocket anyway. I just figured it would be a waste to leave it there".
The audience claps. "Hello Kyle", they chant in unison. The man sits back down. The official woman begins talking about integrity.
THIS IS MY FUTURE.
Okay, so being addicted to biscuits, and I am, isn't as bad as say, being addicted to crack. There's one fatal factor that needs to be taken into consideration though...
I'm a diabetic. Giving a diabetic person biscuits is like giving a dog heroin. It's worse, it's like dogs selling heroin to each other. Biscuits are a diabetic's devil sauce.
In the time it took me to write that last sentence, I managed to mentally eat 7 biscuits. For every starving child in Africa, I've eaten 11 biscuits.
I'm biscuits crazy. I can literally consume more biscuits per second than the entire Asian community of Manchester.
So I've decided to go cold turkey on the biscuit front. I'm literally going to give all my change to passing school children, and barricade myself in my room whenever there are biscuits in the house. In the meantime, I'm going to insist that Tesco stops stocking biscuits completely. I don't think it's an unreasonable request, especially since the alternative would force me to barrel roll through the front window of the store, spinning dragon kick the security guards into oblivion, back flip to the biscuit aisle, take out everyone within a 3 aisle radius, and unwrap each individual biscuit just to smash it against my forehead.
We wouldn't want that now, would we?
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