You're Not Hungry, You're Just Naked
At least that's what I keep telling myself when the big big urge for the whole pie and the pint of egg-thick premium ice cream crashes down on my head like a hulking pie-and-ice-cream-shaped rock. No no no, I say, that's not what you want at all, and I have to go get soap and razor blades, but this time of night that means going to the grocery store what has all the pie and ice cream and giant cookies the size of dinner plates and cake too, including that good kind with the chocolate bits and the pudding layers, and I just know if I go there now for tha' soap and tha' blades there will be hell to pay and it will be delicious.
