State Street was madness, the crowds thick and musty in the third day of mushy falling snow; moving down the sidewalk was a chore, and the stores even worse. There were only a few days left before christ mass and everyone in the greater chicago area seemed to be shopping downtown under the bright glow of red and green lights. The cold air was filled with a sense of crazy frenzy.
That was the year when Cannabalism was the big fad. Those human fingers were the best!! I get hungry as a pup without a tit remembering those red and green boxes with the break dancing elves and that hippy-esque raindeer. The commercial advertisements were especially effective that year, I guess, when they broke all our taboos about eating each other. I know I got all caught up in that ad campaign where they had a long haired, stoned looking Rudolph with Snoop Dogs voice, and all those gay, swishy elves.
Everyone wanted those specially packaged holidy edition finger snacks; people were breaking out into fights when Marshall Fields announced that they would soon be out of the delicious nibble. That was the year when all the winos sold their fingers for drinking change and had to hold their styrofoam begging cups in their teeth (after the states outlawed wino fingers, they started importing the brown ones, of course, and while a lot of people think they are less flavorful, i can't taste any difference). Writing about this little taste bud tickler makes me really, really, really hungry for one of those pinkies, the ones coated in butter and cinamon and topped with white frosting.
The Gods Of Munchy say: "I don't care what all those labor activists say about south americans being made slaves so they can have their non essential organs transplanted into paying customers, I got a weedy need to gnaw on ten of those pinkies and no reason is going to get between me and those fat filled vein cloggers."
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