Well, I've done it. I've polished off an entire box of tastykake rich frosted mini donuts. I started, and I couldn't stop. The worst part is, this is not my first time.Oh no, I'm a repeat offender. Do I feel bad about it? Of course. I've just consumed enough fat to recreate that guy from "The Practice's" lips.
That's a lot of fat. Plus just the sheer amount of calories is staggering. So yeah, I feel bad about it. It's amazing how food has the ability to make you feel bad. You know you shouldn't be doing it even right as it's happening. But some kind of animalistic chocolate-cakey-goodness seeking instinct just takes over and you (read: I) just can't stop. And then you (I) reach that point where you can just about justify further gluttony with the rationale that "Well now there are only a few left. I might as well just finish them." What is the attraction of finishing the box? There's no benefit to having none left. In fact, there would be substantial benefit to not finishing them, as then you could enjoy a few later or the next day, and also, you know, not be fat. The attraction, I think, is that once you finish them you've got nothing left to stuff your fat face with, lardo. If you just finish everything, then you don't have to exert any willpower at all. And that's way easier than, say, stopping.Two weeks ago, I ordered and devoured an entire medium cheese pizza from pizza hut. I am not proud, but I am honest. I have no delusions about my shortcomings as a consumer. In that case the ordeal was entirely my doing. I plotted it out, I planned it, I executed. Start to finish, all me. At least in the case of the disappointing donut display I didn't seek out those donuts... they were given to me, nay, forced upon me by an outside will. Granted, I folded like a cheap suit, and then subsequently ate the entire box in one sitting, but at least it wasn't planned.
The problem with food is that, there's way too much of it, there's too many choices, and ultimately, the evolutionary byproduct that makes fat and sugar taste so goddamn good is ironically both our biological means of survival and one of the greatest modern threats to our health. Or at least my health. I guess there's really no way around it. I'm doomed to continue struggling with dangerous food addiction until the day when cholesterol stuffs my arteries and I keel over from a massive coronary just as my blood sugar level drops triggering diabetic shock resulting in my untimely donut-induced death. Hopefully by then they'll be able to freeze my body until the future, when my brain and spine will be removed and transplanted into a robotic exoskeleton. Then I can eat whatever I want.
