Minor Threat: Wading In Muddy Waters.

Sacred, yet Corrupting.

I have to admit it, I can never resist the temptation of coffee and chocolate. I've been successful at fighting off smoking for three months now, beaten the urge to slurp up frosties, shakes and smoothies, but I finally met my match in an unequivocal mud pie today. Freakin' Mudd Pie. The very dessert that brought down many aspiring weight watchers like me; to bite the dust. But the temptation is irresistable.

Like a silly zombie I marched on, with a spoon in my hand and lust in my heart, my conscience clouded by whip. The first gob melted in mouth like it was the very food of Gods. It felt like salvation. Aaaaaaaaah. I stood there swirling the taste in my mouth, the ice cream melting away in little helpings while the nuts crunched and the whip covered up the last of my determination throes. I fell. I fell. I fell from grace. There was no spoon. Just a distant calm. The swirl of ice cream, the taste of strong coffee and unabiding lust for more.

So much for my work out last night. I had battled six super sets, three sets of power curls and cardio worth a twenty two minutes. Did I mention overbearing grunts of fellow weight watchers coupled with the crack of whips of relentless trainers in camouflages and fatigues. All in vain. The guilt seems to be getting the best of me. What could I do? What can I do? If there is a hell, I am going there with a one way ticket on a supersonic jet. I will probably be hung at the edge of the engines when the afterburners kick in. I know the flight'll be on time. I hope they serve mud pie aboard.