Yes, I do indeed have a mint condition. So, all of you already know about my bendy chip compulsion. You know that my sandwiches must be sliced diagonally into cute little triangles. But I bet you didn't know about my special proclivity pertaining to individually wrapped peppermints, did you?
What's wrong with this innocent picture of the Dumass Taco candy dish? I'll tell you. The prestigious swirled peppermints should not have to fraternize with the inferior mint knockoffs lounging around in the middle of the dish as though they belong in the same neighborhood as the affluent swirled peppermint. That's just wrong. Look at the plainly dull white center of the knockoff mints. They're so freakin boring, I get a narcoleptic attack just looking at them. I've always felt an unexplainable attraction towards swirlies my entire life. Whether that entail dunking my brother's head into the toilet for an old-fashioned swirlie, or fruit swirlies in my yogurt, the Infidel consensus is that SWIRLIES ROCK! I'm an American, and I'm using my God-given freedom and right to refuse to partake of just any old peppermint. No, the mint must bear the Infidel preferred swirly stamp of perfection, or I don't want none of it. Peppermint Patty got my back on this matter too, dawg. When I hit it big, my appearance conditions will include a demand for me and my entire entourage to have unlimited swirled peppermints provided for us along with all the TV's in my dressing room playing non-stop 'Breakin 2:Electric Boogaloo' , movie marathons. It's a deal breaker for me.
I may spit a lot when I talk, but at least it's spittle candy coated in minty fresh goodness. Mmmmm.