Yesterday I ate so much sugar I thought I’d turned into the Kool-aid guy and gained the ability to burst through walls with just the power of my giant glass belly. I could punch my way into strangers’ homes, shattering bricks and insisting the shocked families drink my contents.
It really seems like the Kool-aid guy shouldn’t be so persistent about everyone consuming him and his kind. That’s just not sustainable. He’s definitely trying too hard to be liked. Let it go, Kool-aid man. You can’t force people to like you by destroying their homes and enthusiastically waving your fists in the air.
Despite knowing that, my sugar intake had me feeling just as committed to spreading the gospel of sweetness. I was pushing candy and cupcakes on everyone I saw. Then I awoke from my sugar-coma. I realized I had suffered from sucrose-induced delusions of grandeur. My dreams of being an oversized vessel of dyed liquid were only dreams. I crashed and crawled my way back to human status. It wasn’t pretty.
I think I may have a problem.