Hello, I'm Sophie May Chin and I'm a peanut butter addict... Like others with my illness, I didn't willing choose to live the life hooked on the "nut" I was introduced to it by my Dad. At first, it was innocent, a training tool in fact. I would get peanut butter as a reward for doing my poos outside or a trigger when I had to go to my kennel.
As I grew older, the smell of peanut butter would cause me to unwillingly do "things"... silly things like take bites of sandwiches from between my Dads teeth or take a pill that I didn't really intend to take. I was like I had no control of my own mind and body.
Its gotten really bad in the past year as I've tried to wrestle with the beast. I find myself begging for the middle of Reece's cups and Chick-o-Sticks... peanut butter cookies and fudge make me cry when I smell them. I have a monkey on my back and he's being ridden by Mr. Peanut.
I have no control. I will cut-a-bitch to get in front of the line to share a PB&J with Dad. The Bitty and I use Reece's Pieces as money in poker games. I've even taken to let Finn hump me a little in exchange for his portion of a ZagNut bar. I'm nothing more than a pasty black & white hooker looking for the next score of the brown stuff.
I don't tell you this you this for sympathy, I tell you this so you can warn others and so that you know the danger of the beast yourself. Like any addiction, you can't beat this alone. Someone you love may very well be a "Peanut Head". Does anyone you know drool at Planters commericals on TV? Do you often find empty Jiff jars behind couches or under chairs that are licked clean? Do all the peanut butter cups get eaten out of the Howl-o-weenie candy way before anything else? If so, you may be living with someone who is hooked on the "Spread".
Don't wait... get them help now. If not, you're doomed to a life living with a "Nutty Buddy"! I know... I bleed sweet and salty brown paste if I'm cut. I'm Sophie May Chin and... I'm a Peanut Head.
As I grew older, the smell of peanut butter would cause me to unwillingly do "things"... silly things like take bites of sandwiches from between my Dads teeth or take a pill that I didn't really intend to take. I was like I had no control of my own mind and body.
Its gotten really bad in the past year as I've tried to wrestle with the beast. I find myself begging for the middle of Reece's cups and Chick-o-Sticks... peanut butter cookies and fudge make me cry when I smell them. I have a monkey on my back and he's being ridden by Mr. Peanut.
I have no control. I will cut-a-bitch to get in front of the line to share a PB&J with Dad. The Bitty and I use Reece's Pieces as money in poker games. I've even taken to let Finn hump me a little in exchange for his portion of a ZagNut bar. I'm nothing more than a pasty black & white hooker looking for the next score of the brown stuff.
I don't tell you this you this for sympathy, I tell you this so you can warn others and so that you know the danger of the beast yourself. Like any addiction, you can't beat this alone. Someone you love may very well be a "Peanut Head". Does anyone you know drool at Planters commericals on TV? Do you often find empty Jiff jars behind couches or under chairs that are licked clean? Do all the peanut butter cups get eaten out of the Howl-o-weenie candy way before anything else? If so, you may be living with someone who is hooked on the "Spread".
Don't wait... get them help now. If not, you're doomed to a life living with a "Nutty Buddy"! I know... I bleed sweet and salty brown paste if I'm cut. I'm Sophie May Chin and... I'm a Peanut Head.