I’m a 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. Maybe because I made a bet with doctor that I’d lose 30 pounds by my next scheduled visit with him.

For the last 3 weeks I’ve had no sugar, no starch and no fun. What was I thinking? Heck, what was I drinking?

OH! But I have had I some decadent yearnings. 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”of the brain and it’s located really close to the survival 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 I 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.

In short, they’re happy.

As usual, I tried to trick myself by taking the circuitous route to instant gratification. Like the 3-week-long hiatus from starch, sugar, and anything that taste good… with the exception of light beer.

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 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 whole milk. If you’re going to satisfy a lust, it’s best to do it all the way and with some alacrity.

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.

There are still 3 jelly donuts left in the box – I’m ogling them right now. Wink…

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

Yes! I admit I am a jelly donut trollop. And I am proud of it. I gleefully caved into those yummy yearnings and I am not embarrassed at all 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, infact,eat that delicious, fat-filled, calorie-laden, sugary, ball of gooey, lardaceous goodness. It felt marvelous sliding down my gleeful, greedy, gluttonous gullet. Yum! That mucilaginous, puff of decadent deliciousness with no nutritional value whatsoever – a veritable heart attack in a puffball – tasted so delightful that the memory of it lingers lustily and lovingly in my memory. It, no doubt, was replete with huge quantities of trans fats, HFCS, and artificial flavors, dozens of carcinogens and a good shot of preservatives. Ha! What do I care? I fought the jelly donut and the jelly donut won. So? The jelly donut defeated me. I feel no shame or guilt the morning after.

Something has gone terribly wrong with my self-control mechanisms in my old age –  not many are functioning and I don’t even care.

I have become a brazen, morally bankrupt, food slattern; a prisoner of my own decadent culinary 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, whole milk? A Long John Silver’s butter and battered fish frenzy? A Big Mac, super-sized fries and a huge chocolate shake? A Triple=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 couple of two-liter bottles of Pepsi?

The road I have embarked upon is one filled with cholesterol, trans-fats, sugar, starch, strokes, heart attacks, obesity and so many other dangers I can’t even comprehend them all.

My spirit of adventure is back. I face dangers greater than those faced by our astronauts on their travels into the dark reaches 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. And fingers too fat to type. There’s always Dragon Naturally Speaking, right? I can’t be too fat to talk into a microphone, can I?

Ha! At my age, does it really matter?

Out of control now, with Easter coming and bags of  Easter candy, ham, mashed potatoes, pies, cakes, and other yummy treats.

Looking in the mirror,  I laugh at my own blubbery face. I fear nothing. I’m an brash, brazen 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 wild, frisky, freaky, fulfilling 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 food lust and gluttony before I drop off into oblivion. After all these years of starving myself, I’m free at last, thank Goodns, I’m free at last.

I have started my wild slide down that succulent shoot of voracious culinary cravings and I am not ashamed of it– not even one little bit.

I’m a jelly donut trollop and I’m proud of it!