They are SO flavourful and always soft and fresh as fuck.

quote:

Originally posted by Silky Johnson They are SO flavourful and always soft and fresh as fuck.

I like the springy/chewy aspect of the Haribo. But I am not opposed to trying something new.

They are definitely springy and chewy. Trust. If you find them, you'll see.

I trust Pie.

One of my coworkers always brings a HUGE Ziplock bag of mixed gummy candies to enjoy on night shifts. So I got her a bag of the Albanese gummy worms and got her hooked on them too.

Last edited by Silky Johnson on Jul-31-2020 at 13:06

I used to eat something sweet about twice a year. Since I've had to give up all but the most basic of my exercise routine, I've said fuck it. I have consumed more sugar in the last 6 months than I did in the last 10 years, combined.

I love sweet treats, but more in the form of baked goods, chocolates, and chocolate bars. Oh, and ice cream! Was never big on candy until my coworker started bringing her big ole mystery bag lol. I loooooove wine gums.

My fav by far was my paternal grandmother's lemon cake. She made that shit so light it would float, but it was not dry. The wife can make it 99% as close, so I'm fine with that. When my grandmother's dementia started getting really bad, she could never made anything correctly again. When I worked in town, where she lived (and where we live now, at the farm), I would come by at 11 AM each day and have lunch. She would fix me a homemade hamburger every other Wednesday. She's always steam the bun, and it was just epic as fuck. One weekend she asked dad, "what should I make for lunch, I'd like to have you and Zoso over for lunch." Dad suggested her homemade burgers. She looked at him like she had never heard of a hamburger. She had to read the directions on the bag of fries 8 times to figure out how to bake them in the oven. She was a nervous wreck the entire time. God it was so sad.

Aw man. Dementia is truly heartbreaking.

She was so bad the last year, dad asked me to just stop coming by. I saw her once, on accident, the year before she died. She heated with a wood stove, and she told dad she found live ammunition under the stove, pointed at her couch. She said she knew that I did it because I "always wanted the farm". People "stole" from her all the time. Someone "stole" the broom she used to sweep the back porch. We found it a month later in the top of one of her apple trees in the old orchard behind her garage.