Lusting in Your Heart

A few days ago, I attempted a column on this very topic, whilst visiting un novio and using his computer. It was lost. This will be better. Lo prometo.

The latest research has indicated that we will eat less of a bad food if we ponder upon and lust in our hearts for it before we consume it. So let me begin by saying: I have got some lust to get off my chest today.

First, I want to thank the bakery at the Hillcrest Ralph's. The ladies behind the counter have been nothing short of saintly. Yesterday when I was there the nice lady behind the counter offered me a cookie. It was a white chocolate chip cookie-and while it looked very nice, it was not why I was there. You know why I was there: tiny chocolate cupcakes with HUGE mint frosting heads. Alas, they were conspicuously absent. When I mentioned that those were the only cupcakes I wanted, the nice bakery lady pointed out the mint filled whoopie pies, presumably filled with the very SAME mint frosting.

Coldly I glared at the plastic box containing the whoopie pie. It was a large box. The kind that a croissant sandwich would fit into. The pie filled the entire box. I dared not. I feared the damage would be too great, so I left sans bakery goody.

Later, in bed, I remembered something a fan had written. He said, "I haven't had sex with food for a long time." Well. Something must have chambered the lock of inhibition in my mind because I found myself fantasizing about this whoopie pie.

I imagined I would take it out of the plastic box and put it on the bed (something I would never EVER really do because of the mess it would make) and then, naked, freshly washed, I would get on top of this whoopie pie and press my pudenda into it. Next, I would remove the top and then just get all that mint frosting all over my nether region, in short, I would hump this pie.

Now this is an odd fantasy for me, being that I usually dream of EATING the confection in question. But I suppose at this point, the Captain would have to show up, absolutely starkers and hold me from behind and stroke the mint frosting into my body. And then, he would turn me over and ingest all of those bad calories until I was clean. The Captain DOES know how to show a girl a good time.

I remain, covered in metaphorical mint frosting for you, my darling fans,

Hilda Stinson