O-R-E-O

When I was in college I dabbled in a bit of snacking. I should say, I was the Barry Bonds of snacking. I broke records that most believed unbreakable. I set standards of eating that would buckle William Howard Taft's knees.

Like Bonds, I was a natural. Eating like a pig was in my blood. My father and his father before him were legendary snackers. So I had a lot to live up to. As a youngster I did just that. I could eat whole large pizzas at a single sitting. I could (and still can) eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in three bites, no sweat.

One night in college I ate an entire box of Oreos while watching the History Channel at 2 am. A record which, as far as I know, still stands for my weight class.

Last night, the dream ended.

I could barely choke down a measily half a box of Oreos. Granted I'm no longer on, "the juice," but man, I used to be somebody.

What am I now?

Now I'm just a dude who's kind of flabby and lacks self discpline. I'm no longer the sideshow freak style eater of my youth.

Pitiful.

And to top it off, the indigestion I suffered at the hands of the brand name sandwich cookie caused me to have freaking weird ass dreams last night. Like Bill Cosby had when he ate that meatball sub before bed that one time.

Crap.