Wednesday, November 25, 2009
I Think I Have A Problem
I have a problem.
I, Thomas Robert Stead IX, am addicted to Oreos. In the morning when I wake up I feel tremors. It’s not an earthquake, but rather my body undulating, my stomach screaming “GIVE ME COOKIE!” “GIVE ME COOKIE, NOW!”
I try to deny my stomach. “No, stomach!” “No cookies at 5:20 AM! You know that’s against the ru”
“GIVE ME COOOOOOOOOKIE! NOWWWWWWWWWWW”
When my stomach gets like this its better to appease it before it starts to threaten me.
Just last week, I denied it Oreos in the middle of my English class and it threatened to tell my principle that I had spit out the delicacy he had given me for breakfast. “YOU GIVE NO COOKIE, I GIVE CULTURALLY ACKWARD MOMENT!”
“Stomach, that’s a real dick move! You know you didn’t want that chicken foot scratching around inside of you. I know how picky you are!”
“CRY CRY CRY, I NO LISTEN! COOKIE BITCH!”
“Stomach, not in front of the kids!”
“I SAID COOOOKIE BITCH!”
Incredibly embarrassed, I excused myself from the confused room of students, and rushed to the nearest toko in search of Oreos.
I clearly have a problem. Sometimes I eat an entire package in a day. In Indonesia, they come in a convenient tube of 12. Only 12! 12 isn’t that many right? Its only 21 grams of fat per serving, each serving is 3 cookies. 84 grams of fat. Its ok, its ok. Except, sometimes I eat 2 packs in a day. And I feel so happy. And I can feel the little Oreos shaking in my thighs quivering like hummingbirds, creating a life of their own as they flap in my fat tissue. I am a host. The roused sucker in a hostile takeover planned between my stomach and the Oreo’s. If my stomach gets its way, Oreo’s will colonize the entirety of my body, and soon little Oreos will be hanging from belly, under my chin, even in my eyelids. They’ll take no prisoners, I will be nothing but a walking urr… sitting/lounging oreo home planet. My stomach and the oreos will have me in chains/sweatpants, and there will be nothing I can do to overcome them. My stomach will be screaming, “COOKIE NOW OR I SKYPE DAD, TELL HIM ABOUT THAT ONE TIME!” or “COOKIE OR I MAKE YOU VOMIT, THEN ONLY HUNGRY FOR MORE COOKIES! HAHAHAHAHA!
How do I defeat the Oreo? How do I come down off of its delicious high? How do I say, “No stomach, I think you should shut up and eat some Broccoli?”
How do I take back my life? This is me officially reaching out for help. Help me before its too late!