When I bite into a generic peppermint patty, I get the sensation that I am sinking in an arctic abyss while hypothermia wraps its coma-inducing claws around my lifeless body.

When I bite into a generic peppermint patty, I get the sensation that I am standing naked with my back against a brick wall facing a firing squad of East German dodge ball players.

When I bite into a generic peppermint patty, I get the sensation that I am on Family Feud and Richard Dawson is kissing me instead of the women, and all of the peppermint and rich chocolate in the world cannot get rid of the bad taste in my mouth.

When I bite into a generic peppermint patty, I get the sensation that I am chained and bound to a fire hydrant in the middle of the most heavily populated dog park in the world.

When I bite into a generic peppermint patty, I get the sensation that my yacht has capsized and I have been rescued by a boat that is carrying Cuban defectors…then their rudder breaks and a giant wave comes by and carries us to Havana.

When I bite into a generic peppermint patty, I get the sensation that I have walked into a bar that is heavily decorated with confederate flags and swastikas while I am wearing my I LOVE CIVIL RIGHTS t-shirt.

And, finally!

When I bite into a generic peppermint patty, I get the sensation that I am George Washington and my mouth is swarming with colonial termites, which is not good because it is 1777 and some of them are loyal subjects of the crown.