Nutella Pudding by comeundone/flickr.
Before Nutella, I was a good person.
I was sensible, sane (*cough*), relatively rational and mostly in control. Sure, I had my dalliances with cupcakes, macarons and pies, but these indulgences were fueled by requisite research (*cough cough*). I explored, analyzed, tasted, and reported back just for you. Contrary to popular belief, I’m perfectly able to limit my consumption of these treats for special occasions only.
Not so with naughty Nutella. If I were banished to a desert island, the one thing I would take with me (besides a recording of “Like a Rolling Stone”) would be a nasty, nutty, hopelessly unhealthy jar of Nutella. There, under the searing sun, with chapped, cracked lips and tired hair that hadn’t been washed in months, I would dip my pointer finger into my Nutella and bliss out.
Anybody out there know what I’m talking about? One doesn’t choose Nutella. It chooses you. And absolutely NO ONE is safe from its brand of tawdry temptation. So, you think you’re all tidy and health conscious with lots of willpower? Nutella will find a way to weasle itself into your life. All it takes is one weak moment, a teensy dose of curiosity, an innocent offer by even the most trusted of friends — and wham! You’re hooked.