Tall Guy Chocolates

The OMG abbreviation is perhaps the most reviled teenage acronym in modern existence, at least in my opinion (though LOL equates, I mean c’mon, just tell me it’s funny) thus you’re not going to see me drop OMG in a review of any kind, ever. Never ever. Even though you just read it. Didn’t happen. OMG was so 2005. Dear God, let’s get rid of it already. Holy F*ck Me, better abbreviated as HFM (or #hfm) would best describe my first bite into a chocolate covered sea salt caramel from Tall Guy Chocolates.
And let me dig a nail into white chocolate, while I’m at it. White chocolate simply fails. It ain’t chocolate and it can’t masquerade as such, it’s a sugary wannabe that doesn’t know cocoa from lavender and until now was destined to exist within the foil wraps of hellish Hershey’s kisses, a flat corn syrup joke. Damn you Tall Guy, this Christmas you meshed one helluva truffle, wrapped in the dark stuff for camouflage, and dipped the whitey in a divine citrus samba, nothing overwhelming or drunk on flavor, just a kiss. A nudge. HFM, those nuggets were pure heaven.
Every bite of Tall Guy treats have been memorable. They’ll ship ‘em from Seattle, and lucky for me, I’m gettin’ ‘em every holiday because I know somebody who knows somebody. Na na na-​na na. Brush your teeth, because these sweets will rot you out in a delightful, HFM way.