Candy Crush Addict

Candy Crush is pretty darn addictive.  Ole Hemingway and Ed A. Poe would have played and God only knows how it would have affected their writing.  The thing is, the music and the sound effects drive me crazy. I muted the settings 3 weeks ago, but I can still hear the small town carny music in my head when I play.  I imagine it’d have driven a deaf Beethoven to an earlier grave.  I can see Van Gogh out there in the fields with his mini iPad, cursing the game  – and cutting off his other ear to get rid of the trip hop soundscape.  Instead of Starry Night, we might have gotten Wavy Jelly Beans.

And here’s another thing.  It took me about a year to get past level 23, and I thought I’d be stuck there for the rest of my Candy Crush life.  I steadfastly refuse to buy boosters, but am tempted to buy some of those Red Hot Tamales in a box, if they still make them – remember those?  And maybe a case of green Chiclets.  What I would do for a bag of Lucky Charms marshmallows.   I admit it, I’m a sugar addict –  that’s why I play.  I’m not a gambler, don’t like the on-line version of games – been to a casino once and thought it was the dumbest thing I’d ever done in my life.  Look, I don’t need a new life, and I think it’s worth a little more than 99 cents…actually, maybe I do need a life, and thanks for the offer too – but keep the 5 extra moves to yourselves…ok, I’ll take them.  If you really want to give me a present, send over a couple cases of Lemonheads.

Play on!  I would but I’m on timeout with this message:  Level 28 – you FAILURE!  No more lives for you.

PS – If you’re on Spotify, mute that Candy Crush crap and play this instead: Candy Crush Grooves.