I just visited one of Satan’s miniature incarnations of hell on earth. The Mexican Buffet complete with Habanera salsa.
Oh the steam trays of doom piled high with sacrifices to gluttony, the desert bar of sirens calling you to your demise, the awful, terrible things that happen to refritos frijoles as they work their way through your GI tract. The sweat and tears from the habanera, Gods warning that you are stepping into the valley of the shadow of death.
But then he went and gave us endorphins to make the pain feel happy! Go figure!
It reminds me of the song "Hurts So Good" By John Mellencamp... but with one change to the chorus
"Hurts so good.
Come on baby, make it hurt so good.
Sometimes food don't feel like it should.
Oh baby it hurts so good."
To top it all off, I need someone to rub cocoa butter on my belly to prevent stretch marks. Anyone? Please?