Wednesday, March 7, 2012


Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:45 a.m. 

“You are what you eat,” his mother always told him, and Roald couldn’t agree more. He loves food—not just the taste, or the way it satiates the grinding hunger in his stomach, but also the way it looks, smells, and feels. Roald is more than happy to become what he eats. The blood of the rare steak he consumed for dinner last night soaks his fat cheeks. The sticky maple syrup that topped his pancakes at breakfast now seeps from his armpits on this unseasonably warm morning. His corpulent belly is the accumulation of years of desserts: sugary cupcakes, chewy cookies, jiggly puddings, velvety fudge.

Roald isn’t stupid. He knows that butter fills his veins and cottage cheese clogs the chambers of his heart. But those are some of his favorite foods! What a delicious way to go. 

Can I just say that I love Drivel & Wit Chicago? It is the best writing group. Of all time. Ever. This is a fact.

Trivia tonight. Time to kick some ass. 

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