VERY HUMONGOUS CELEBRATION

Years ago I suggested that women and chili peppers had a lot in common, and somehow were equivalent. They might even be interchangeable, each other's stand-in or replacement for the single man.


"Hot sauce is a substitute for a woman at the table."


A literalist would be heading for disaster upon taking this seriously. But others, of a perverse bent, might well pay to observe. The table would have to be trashed afterward.

Chili peppers, like cocoa, originated in Mexico. More people rely on capsaicin than on theobromine. The Holiday season, however, emphasizes the latter, and neglects the former. Personally I feel that chilies would be better for your waist, but I have been outvoted.


Two weeks from now things will be different. You will return to the office, and painfully realize that there are still three or four nearly filled gift baskets from clients that must be eaten be eaten before the marketing department gets to them, or the frat boys in sales, and you will look with regret at where your stomach used to be, and wish that it had been chilies instead. There is a giant beach ball between your chest and your lower thighs, the word 'panniculus' has acquired meaning in your life, and you're jonesing for chocolate.

You know, jonesing for chilies is not nearly as likely to fill you with despair.
Hot flaming something, yes. Angst, no.

As a superior being, and a bachelor besides, I am pointing this out for your own good. Chocolate is a bad substitute for love, warmth, a woman (or man) at the table, and zesty fun-filled nudity. Or just hugs.

Chilies are okay. Not quite the same, but okay.

You may need a hug now.


The problem is of course that no one can get her or his arms around you, and they are scared to come close. The beach ball might eat them.
Or in any case crush their spirit. It is truly big.

Unlike you, I will be as trim after the holidays as before.

I am a single man without chocolate.

Lucky me.




There is a lot of hot sauce (*) in my apartment, of several different levels of strength. It is warm and inviting, and infinitely pleasing to the soul.
If anything could talk, almost certainly it could.
"Come to me", it would say.
Oh baby.




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