You and your candy can kiss my ass!

If my daddy was able to give me all the money I wanted, I'd start my own candy store too. Argh. I am bitter, for no good reason, and my bitterness has been stirred by Dylan Lauren and her damn candy shop. I went there—a small and very uncharacteristic pilgrimage to the most pretentious rung of hell the Upper East Side— and was thoroughly unimpressed. The logo is hideous. I chipped a tooth on a piece of her candy. I'd hoped for some sort of Wonka wonderland, but instead it was an ugly, ordinary place. And I think I even got a blister schlepping all the way back to the west side where I belong. All in all, my Dylan's Candy Bar adventure was a horrible experience. The NYT article does nothing but piss me off because she has the money to start an unprofitable business just for fun. Kiss. My. Ass.

And now I want some candy. Damn it. Waa waa waa.