Darker, Darkest 

This morning, on first sip of my mediocre, lukewarm chocolate at Starbucks (It was supposed to be extra-hot. And tasty. But I kept sipping it anyway.) I wondered,

What is the most sickening, revolting, abhorrent, ghastly thing in existence?

Physical torture.

It is definitely physical torture.

Unless you can fasten on something worse?

(I mean, I can't handle being on hold for a customer service representative only to find that they are in India while I'm on my cell phone which equals the worst connection ever not to mention the dialect issues, Barbara Streisand "on hold" music and the fact that, after an hour, said representative can't help me fix my palm pilot anyway. Of course this probably falls under the umbrella of mental torture, which is still torture, but not worth mentioning in the face of getting your fingers clipped off one-by-one with pliers or whatever it was that cutter guy had in the season finale of Nip/Tuck. Right?)

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