Breaking SAD.

I, like the rest of the world with Netflix, have finished the entire Breaking Bad series. And, I, like the rest of the world who has seen the show in it's entirely, am in a crippling state of mourning.

I'm being dramatic. Well, sort of.

You know the feeling. You know the grief. Countless hours stacked up only to be swiped down without the slightest hesitation. Again, way dramatic (the damn show eventually has to come to a close) but you know what I mean.

I didn't hate the ending. I didn't hate anything, really. It was an event. A black-hole of space and time that sucked me in from beginning to end. The emotional attachment towards the characters and situations have warranted an unwarranted bond with a fictional family on a television show about a dude who cooks meth and his kid has crutches and there's a lawyer and a fat guy and lot of murder but now I'm bummed it's over BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

You know exactly what I mean.

And I'm pissed because that through all this shit, this roller-coaster ride of this fucking show, this intensely addicting prison of a show...I have nothing to show for it. Nothing. Not a single souvenir. No "job well done," a pat on the back, a "go get 'em, kid!" All I want ALL I REALLY WANT is an e-mail from the creator saying, "thanks!" And maybe some of that really sparkly, delicious looking blue meth. Is that so hard?

....

NO ITS NOT BITCHES

Ta-da!

Straight from New Mexico's very own Candy Lady comes the ultimate in faux drug paraphernalia -- BLUE CANDY METH!

Yes, there is a store in New Mexico that sells this stuff. Yes, it's candy and YES it's legitimately tied to Breaking Bad. The Candy Lady produced and supplied the show with what would become instantly recognizable as...well, that blue crystal meth on Breaking Bad. It's kind of weird to think they'd go through the trouble to create prop-meth with candy, though. I guess they figured they'd have a shit-ton of fake meth lying around after a shoot...why not be able to eat the stuff?

There is no greater joy than owning a dime-bag of crushed up, fake blue candy from a hugely popular television series. I feel even more connected than ever before. I'm part of this and now it's now a part of me. Because it's the simple things. We work, we play, we find comfort in candy drugs. And with this great discovery, this zen-like epiphany, a chapter in my life can close (and I can finally watch something else). It was a fun ride while it lasted. Thanks, Candy Lady. And thanks, Walter White and Jesse Pinkman. Thanks for the memories!

AND FOR THE REALLY COOL BLUE CANDY METH WHEEE!1!!!!!