Life is like a box of chocolates. It’s a cheap thoughtless perfunctory gift that nobody ever asks for.
Unreturnable, because all you ever get back is another box of chocolates, so you’re stuck with this unidentifiable whipped mint crap that you mindlessly wolf down when there’s nothing left to eat.
Sure, once in a while there’s a peanut butter cup or an English toffee, but they’re gone too fast and the taste is fleeting. So you end up with up with nothing but broken bits with hardened jelly and teeth-shattering nuts.
If you’re desperate enough to eat that, all you have left is an empty box filled with useless brown paper wrappers.