You know, this world is full of temptations that threaten to keep my ass fat: cookies, alcohol, Taco Bell, Christian Bale (because calories are a measurement of heat, and looking at him is like taking in a giant hot fudge sundae via occular osmosis, so I really should consider not looking at him so much), and in the aftermath of Easter, where my house looks like it was bombed by a terrorist group known as Willy Wonkaeda, I felt it was important to sort of talk about the main thing that is threatening to shorten my existence on this planet, thereby making it an Instrument of the Apocalypse.
You know where I'm going with this.
The Top 5 Harbingers of My Own Personal Doom right now are:
5. Jelly Beans- Not just any jelly beans though. The Good Kind. The little Jelly Belly kind in all of the exotic flavors, with the exception of the ones that taste like formaldahyde (aka- the black ones). These tasty little faux legumes are like the Chinese water torture of candy; they're so small and look so insignificant that you wouldn't think that they would do any major harm, until you realize you're still reaching for some a couple hours later and you... can't... STOP. And you're begging yourself to PLEASE JUST STOP!!!
4. M&Ms of all varieties- my personal favorite being the peanut butter kind. See above. They couldn't have made these things more addictive than if they came out with a Crack M&Ms flavor. Those fuckers at Mars signed my death warrant 25 years ago, but I'm still here! Ya hear that, you evil pricks? I'M STILL HERE!!!
God... I need to lay off the sugar... Moving on:
3. Cadbury Eggs- well I can say that the demons working for the Cadbury company did something that no one on this list has managed to do yet, and that is to make a delicious candy that is so sweetly satisfying (have you tried the ones with the caramel? Sweet Jesus) that ONE is actually enough! For like, three hours even! How rare that is. It's amazing that they make enough money. It's that adorable clucking spokesrabbit. That's gotta be it.
2. Hershey's Miniatures- Look, evil people from Pennsylvania, it's bad enough that you have to be the home of the fucking Philly Cheesesteak, but you also have to pedal delicious death in the form of cute, tiny, individually wrapped candy bars- especially the kind with the little rice krispies inside- and that... that is just, plain WRONG. You need to be removed from the Union. Maybe THEN I'll be assured that I'll be able to fit through my front door without the aid of axle grease sometime in the near future.
Oh but maybe that's not true, because I haven't really gotten to the number 1 item on the Post-Easter Candy Threatdown. It is one that will almost certainly have me booking my spot on a tear-filled Richard Simmons infomercial if I can't find a way to escape its tantalizing siren call:
1. Reese's Peanut Butter Cups- it's ironic how utterly Zen the combination of PB and Chocolate can be and how very UN-Zen it is to be sitting with a bag of the little miniature sons of bitches within my grasp while the ottoman across from me is littered with tiny, crumpled foil wrappers. I also wonder- is it a total coincidence that I gave my daughter the middle name Reese? While I thought it was a kind of cool, post-modern middle name to pick for her, I wonder if subconsciously I was having a last-minute pregnancy craving.
One thing's for certain, if I remain dilligent and keep eating, this threat can be gone by sometime tomorrow afternoon.
It's a sacrifice I'll have to make.