ADDICTION IS A TERRIBLE THING TO WASTE…..zuki loses taste for chocolate

Good Morning Fungible Ones,

The first half of life consists of the capacity to enjoy without the chance; the last half consists of the chance without the capacity – Mark Twain

I’ve been thinking about how in reality, deep down privy only to your inside voice, how often we admit to letting hope overcome reason? Then instantly we set that question aside reminding ourselves never to wander there again. This preference for ‘whistling in the dark’ is probably more pervasive than we realize.

I suspect millions suffer this self-inflicted malady and keep the horrible truth buried. Usually though, this self-flagellation will exact a price few can afford. However, it’s nearly impossible to predict how or when payment is due. Fear and doubt will block out the sun if you let it.

As usual, it gives me no joy to report that one of our own is headed down this slippery slope. Addictions come in many forms, but all of them share the common thread of self-destruction. Over time our association has eroded and is greatly diminished from our glory days at Blondie’s as one more of our own is headed to disaffiliation.

But this time it’s not from hurt feelings or the inability to grasp a bit of irony, this time it’s a self-inflicted knee to the groin. Being somewhat of an expert in self-inflicted pain, I may be the only person to empathize with our good friend’s struggle.

Although odd at first glance, this particular addiction is nonetheless a serious concern. The two or three of you still reading this ‘Bloody Booger’ no doubt associate addiction with alcohol, tobacco, porn, or heroin etc… but in this case, we’re talking salacious acts of perversion “so profound and disgusting….decorum prevents me from listing them.”

The last few weeks I’ve driven more than the previous six months! I’ve been all over the six county area surrounding Denver. Yesterday I stopped at Village Inn for lunch some 15 miles from The Maggot and hardly expected to see anyone I knew, so you might imagine my surprise when I saw our cherished associate Cush walk into Village Inn and purchase three chocolate cream pies. Our good friend didn’t see me finish my lunch and follow him out and into my car. I was curious about the pies and why so far from home; so I followed.

We headed south on Federal to a part of town notorious for Massage Parlors and sure enough, our long standing associate walked into “Madam Hong Kong’s table wash and hand-job” carrying the pies.

Curiosity replacing common sense I drove into the back parking area and noticed a few cracks in the curtains for potential research. The windows were a mere foot too high so I looked around and found an old plastic milk case half buried in leaves and trash against the fence. It was perfect. I began looking for our dear friend and after a couple of shocking miscues found our ‘little’ buddy in the company of who I assumed to be his “masseuse”. What I saw next nearly made me vomit. I’ll warn you right now. If you happen to be less than 18 years of age, please log off as I can’t be held responsible for adverse reactions to the following account:

Both were stripped naked. Our good friend watched as his masseuse draped a sheet over the small table and laid plastic down over the small floor. She then removed a pie, placed it atop the table and stood back. With the innocent glee, only children can produce Cush squealed with delight. With one large step, our associate leaped up and landed squarely on the pie sending the gooey ingredients flying sticking to the walls and floor. Laughing, the masseuse took a large wooden spoon and scooped the cream and chocolate from our associate’s ass placing it in a plastic bag.

With deft efficiency, she scraped and collected most of what was left on his body carefully placing it in the bag. It was obvious this sick ritual was well practiced as each pie was treated the same way. I continued to watch as money was exchanged listening for any clues that would help me understand.

Finally, our dear friend smiled and said he had to take the bag of collected oozing’s and make pies for some Teamster’s meeting that night.

I hope you now understand how serious this addiction truly is. I suspect it’s time for an intervention or we may lose this beloved associate. Please join with me in prayer for this unfortunate soul, and most importantly; keep away from his offer of cream pies!



  • James Cushman

    Pies are my Achilles heel, and would you stop telling people about my relationship with the Korean Mamason. And stop telling people her location. That’s my secret!!!!!