Confessions of a Sugarholic

Diabetes robs the world of joy.

Some people are wine connoisseurs. Some people are connoisseurs of fine food. I’m a connoisseur of sugared cereal, if such a thing exists. Which it doesn’t really, because even people addicted to sugared cereal will tell you that sugared cereal is objectively fairly disgusting.

But for those of us who have spent a lifetime spooning gobs of multi-colored glucose delivery systems towards vulnerable enamel, the disgustingness is not a disincentive. On the contrary, it’s part of the appeal.

The way that Fruity Pebbles turns into a multi-colored paste in milk, giving off a scent of chemical sweetness, like a slush of cancerous bees…the sensation of Apple Jacks serrating the roof of your mouth, so the sugar enters through a thousand sandpaper incisions, rather than through the digestive system…the bland inedible cardboard taste of Lucky Charms, which makes each marshmallow a blissful relief…the gaseous after-effects of Sugar Smacks bubbling up for hours, to be swallowed and re-swallowed, so you can linger over the aftertaste of flavored methane…

I am having a 40% off sale on annual subs; $30/year. Join and read the rest of the essay!