"Great Balls of Fire"

Since this space has morphed into my very public confessional booth where I talk about happenings that even my mother doesn't know about (she freaked out about my entry about someone once holding a gun to my head and pulling the trigger...geez, who could have predicted that?), I've got another bombshell for you folks:

I might as well face it, I'm addicted to Atomic FireBalls. Yeah, just let it soak in. When the shock has worn off we'll continue, mm'kay?


Whew. Shall we?

A few years ago, Stacey used to regularly buy for me, in bulk, enormous containers of the aforementioned tongue-searing candy. I developed quite the serious habit. For a year or two, I had a severe case of badger-face as I almost always had a FireBall (or two) lodged in my cheek, slowly burning a hole in my mouth. Once her Sam's Club card expired, though, I saw nary a FireBall for quite some time. It was tough at first, but after a while, I rarely thought about my long gone friend.

For my birthday this year, however, Stacey bought me several bags of the candy I had worked so hard to forget. You know how "they" say an addict never really quits? Well, now that we are back together, it's like we were never apart. I've consumed so many FireBalls in the last few weeks, I can almost poke my pinky finger through the small hole that's forming in my cheek. It's a sacrifice, sure, but the payoff is so worth it.

Anyway, I just thought you should all know about this. In the event that I disappear for a little while (cough-rehab-cough-rootcanal-cough), you won't wonder for too long where I've gotten off to.