today my friend fng gave me a portion of his ncaa pool winnings: a lollipop the size of my face and decorated in each flavor of the GLBTQUIA flag. fng was unwilling to commit to the 132 grams of sugar crammed into this seven ounce sucker. fact: there is no recommended daily allowance for sugar. another fact: if you were trying to give yourself diabetes, 40 grams a day would be a good place to start.
fng had a minor stipulation: to try to eat it in one sitting. another glaring number on the nutrition label of this $1 treat brought to you by confectory lane -- on a nutrition label filled with more zeros than your graduating class -- is calories: 790. this would mean omitting a meal. preferably breakfast, but it was too late for that. and so i began.
eating something that looks like you pulled it out of willy wonka's front yard requires diligence. its like a cruel home ec prank involving a hard-boiled egg named oscar who never stops crying, and the star of the basketball team who is assigned to play the role of deadbeat dad. you can't set the sucker down, unless you want a side of couch lint and dorito debris -- although will the added calories kill you? and you can't just attack it wildly with your canines, because if you're like me, your teeth quake at the mere mention of consuming anything more solid than the smell of butterscotch pudding. and really, you can't get a lot done when you are holding on to it. it's one of the more cumbersome snack foods.
you can set it on your coffee mug.
the first hour sort of broke the seal. a tiny mouth-sized area at the top turned white from my constant attention. going into the second hour, some symptoms cropped up:
a cut on the side of my mouth
a blue tongue
bloated taste buds
i ran into my friend drock, told him my mission and he said: the next time i see you, you better be two swirls into that thing. two swirls equals approximately four inches.
"oh-hay," my tongue limped.
i expected a sugar rush. ripping off my pants and running in circles while screaming the lyrics to "wake me up before you go go," or at least giving someone a ferocious nuggie. instead i was doused in fatigue, like the act of devouring this sucker was a sort of cardiovascular workout.
after two hours i realized i'd not eaten any dinner, yet i was curiously not hungry at all. i imagined i was building a stomach ache of epic proportions. the kind you get when disneyland mates with candyland and the smurfs provides background vocals. so i made a sandwich.
and then that was about the end of that. my pancreas was overstimulated and ready to implode.