Today, I ate a Wispa for the first time in… ooh, years. I had no idea that the original incarnation had been around until 2003, though. I always associate Wispas with the 80s and 90s, and thereby lies a slight Proust effect for me. Eating a Wispa will always remind me of university days; the freebies at Freshers Fair and everyone saving their wrappers towards the mugs that appeared in every campus kitchen.
One particular Wispa moment stands out in my memory. Emerging, shattered, from an all-night essay panic into a glistening summer morning, I went to the UEA campus supermarket in search of a sugary breakfast. A Wispa and a can of Coke seemed like the perfect quick fix for my sleep-deprived brain.
I started to question my rash choice only seconds after returning to my room, as the gaseous propulsion of the latter product ejected the former neatly into my sink.
Hmm. I can only assume that this was an attempt at a Scaryduck-type post.
In which case, minus 5 points for the sicking-up not being in a hedge.
Even Wispa jokes are strongly rooted in the 80s:
Why did George Michael get chocolate all over his face?
He was careless with his Wispa.
… sorry…