Let's hear it for the fluffy fried eggs

I don't do commercial endorsements. No. But there is something deeply satisfying about Haribo Starmix.

I saw my dentist last week and mentioned them. He didn't seem bothered by my little addiction. I suspect my enjoyment of these sweets is helping pay for his retirement villa somewhere in the sun.

I try not to, but I always do, pick out the 'fluffy' ones: the hearts and the fried eggs. I'm a grown man, for goodness sake, and I sit on the train in the evening rustling through a plastic bag in search of fluffy fried eggs!

The cola bottles are OK too, but I'm no fan of the little bears or the engagement rings.

You have no idea what I am talking about, do you?

In a corporate office, somewhere in suburban Bonn, some executives must have sat around and agreed that a mixture of fluffy hearts, fried eggs, tiny bears, cola bottles and engagement rings were the perfect combination of objects to stick in a plastic bag. Errrr. Right.

Glad they did though.