I love Bugles. I know that they are probably one of the most unhealthy snacks on the planet. They are made of corn, which, in it's natural state, is quite nutritious, but, improperly processed, has a tendency to provide empty calories without providing necessary nutrients. And they're probably deep fried in corn oil, which makes the situation even worse. Nevertheless, I love Bugles.
Well, I should say loved. They seem to have disappeared.
I didn't eat them indiscriminately. But, for some reason, they were my go-to snack for New Year's Eve. Maybe they were particularly prevalent during my teen years: I don't know. But I always tried to have Bugles at New Year's Eve, even if I didn't eat them the rest of the year.
But they're gone. And so are a lot of other things. So, I lost my wife, my home, my best friend, my reason for being, my job, and my purpose in life. And now Bugles.
My New Year's resolution is to be less careful crossing the streets in Port Alberni.
Or, maybe 4k. I haven't decided yet ...
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