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Jelly Donut Trollop

There is nothing like a pleasure delayed.

For the past several weeks I have had an overwhelming, almost prurient yearning for a jelly donut.  Why? I don't know. But these yearnings are seated, no doubt, deep in the part of the brain's least understood by scientists. This is the part of the brain that causes people to eat Big Macs, cream sticks, cake, cookies, and yes, jelly donuts. It's the "sweet-fat-salty lobe" and it's located really close to the procreation lobe. Desires that are born in the sweet-fat-salty lobe flare up from time to time and they are almost impossible to ignore. Yes some of the more depraved among us can try to ignore these primal urges. Others, like me, delay or deny these urges until they become so intense we can no longer ignore them.  The more overtly obese folks do the right thing from the start - they throw caution to the wind, laugh in the face of mortality and instantly give in to any and all food cravings with lusty delight.

As usual, I tried to trick myself by taking the circuitous route to instant gratification.

Last night, I starting musing about Benjamin Franklin, the wise and corpulent inventor of the jelly donut. The thought of Mr. Franklin's sweet invention made me salivate. Suddenly, in the midst of these delicious musings and without one more second's delay, I gave into these delayed desires and satisfied my long, lusty yearning. I ate a jelly donut. Not only did I eat that corpulent, puffy, juicy, jelly donut with white icing, I complimented my decadent yearning, by washing it down with a large, ice-cold glass of one-percent milk. If you're going to satisfy a lust, it's best to do so with some modicum of temperance.

I cannot possibly describe in words the pleasure derived from those fleeting moments of culinary recklessness. It was an indescribable experience; a wondrous, wild, ride, a libidinous yearning satisfied. I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat - and I probably will.

All those days and weeks of denying my carnal culinary cravings cascaded into a few ribald moments - fleeting feisty moments of wonderfully satisfying depravity.

Yes! I admit I am a jelly donut trollop. And I am damn proud of it. I gleefully caved into those yummy yearnings and I am not embarrassed to admit it. What do I have to show for my rapaciousness? I walk with my head held high and my belly bulging -- and proclaim to the world that yes, I did eat that delicious, fat-filled, calorie-laden, sugary, ball of gooey, lardaceous goodness. It felt marvelous sliding down my greedy, gluttonous gullet. Yum! That mucilaginous, puff of decadent deliciousness with no nutritional value at all - a veritable heart attack in a puffball - tasted so delightful the memory of it lingers lovingly in my memory. So, it was filled no doubt with huge quantities of trans fats, HFCS, and artificial and natural carcinogens and preservatives? What do I care? I threw caution to the wind, and being the kind of guy I am, I feel no shame or guilt this morning after.

Something has gone terribly wrong with my self-control mechanisms in my old age - and I don't even care.

I have become a brazen, morally bankrupt, food slattern; a prisoner of my own decadent desires. I am on a swinish, slippery slope and I know it. What's next? Fried pork chops with greasy country gravy? A dozen glazed Krispy Kremes and a gallon of hormone-laden, full-fat milk? A Long John Silver's battered fish frenzy? A Big Mac, super-sized fries and a chocolate shake? A Whopper with onion rings, cherry pie, and an Oreo flurry? A whole bag of Chips Ahoy, two pints of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey? A bag of Lay's and a two-liter bottle of HFCS-laced Pepsi?

The road I have embarked upon is one filled with cholesterol, trans-fats, strokes, heart attacks, obesity and other dangers too numerous to list. My spirit of adventure is back. I face dangers greater than those faced by our astronauts on their travels into the dark realms of space. And, if I don't find a way to regain control of my concupiscent, culinary cravings soon, I will swell into a blubbery, shapeless mass with a balding head bobbing atop. Ha! At my age, who really cares?

Out of control now, with Christmas coming and trays of cookies, candy and other tempting treats looming, I laugh at my own blubbery face. I fear nothing. I'm an adventurer. If my belly is to bulge then let it bulge. I can always buy bigger pants. Always plenty of bigger pants to be had. You know what?  I deserve some lusty, lewd, prurient moments in my old, boring life - even if only culinary ones. I am a profligate puff-ball of culinary decadence and I'm going to enjoy my lust and gluttony before I drop off into oblivion. After all these years of starving myself, I'm free at last, thank God, I'm free at last.

I have started my slide down that succulent shoot of lascivious culinary cravings and I am not ashamed of it - not one bit.

I am a jelly donut trollop and I'm proud of it!