On a day when I anticipated writing about the joy of fitting into old clothes again (thanks to a tofu-based, cheeseless diet), I find myself chomping on a Milky Way at 11:30pm. Not just any ol' Milky Way either, but one from the States (I haven't had much luck with the local versions of American candy bars; the Twix I tried was horrendous). I'd planned to expound on a quote I saw a few weeks ago -"Nothing tastes as good as thin feels"- but my mind keeps drifting back to the delectable caramel-chocolate concoction I've just consumed. How's that for irony?
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