Blegh!

Can't say I've stopped feeling blegh. But that might be something to do with the number of plain chocolate biscuits I've consumed since this morning's Ugh! post.

Plain chocolate biscuits are lovely in and of themselves, but are a poor substitute for a Silk Cut. But as I can't have a Silkie, guess the choccie bix will have to suffice.

Of course, I could eat plain chocolate biscuits even when I smoked. So what is the point of the biscuits? What need is satisfied by the biscuits? What need am I satisfying by eating biscuits?

Am I satisfying any need beyond the basic need to enjoy something sweet and fatty? Wouldn't I enjoy a plain chocolate biscuit anyway? So am I, in fact, rambling for nothing? To no point? Making a mountain out of a molehill? What does it mean? Anything? Nothing? In what way is the biscuit meaningful? Wouldn't I have eaten one anyway? Even when I was smoking, if I had a packet of biscuits, didn't I eat too many? So is the problem allowing myself to buy the biscuits? Because if I didn't buy them I wouldn't eat them?

How many questions can I ask myself in one blog entry? Can I ask any more? In what sense do I expect an answer? What would an answer consist of? Would I know if I had an answer? Is the chocolate biscuit an answer? Is blegh a word? Is blegh a biscuit? How many shortcake can a man wolf down? How short can a cake be? How short would a cake have to be before it became useless? Would that depend on how many short cakes there were?

Blegh?