My name’s Mark and I’m an addict.
There I said it.
It’s out there.
My addiction to Diet Coke in many ways is as bad, if not worse than heroin. Well it is if you listened to some people who observe my 1.5litre per day habit.
While I’m sure in about 30 years there will be massive health warnings about carbonated drinks with pretend sugar substitutes in them, for now I’m pretty comfortable that Diet Coke is not killing me, or if it is, it’ll take ages. I could be going out every weekend throwing gallons of ale down my gullet then livening myself up with a stripe or three of pigeon dust, but no. Having cut down on drinking, Diet Coke remains my only real indulgence and if you try to convince me otherwise, I won’t be swayed.
Or should that be suede?
See what I did there? Seamless. Suede, and Cola to boot, no literally, they’re also a boot. I’ve got these in a darker brown and they’re a wonderful shoe. A real go-to-guy for all occasions. They’re my footwear Man Friday for every day of the week, just as Diet Coke is my ally in avoiding daily dehydration. They’re a good match. This whole post would have worked better if I could have referenced how comfortable and light Clarks are and then drawn a clumsy parallel between that and ‘Coke Light’, which is what they call Diet Coke in Europe.
Anyway, now I’ve got that off my chest, I’m off to get another hit of aspartame before I start rattling. I don’t half talk some shit, eh?
Get these from Oi Polloi.
