Hello, my name is Diane and I am a pumpkin addict...

I am not here to trivialize real addictions.  I am here to inform the public at large about this new, insidious substance, whose addiction levels are bordering on epidemic.  Pumpkin. 

On the streets it goes by many names.  Pumpkin butter.  Pumpkin bread.  Pumpkin granola.  Pumpkin latte...

You cannot get away from it.

Just like crystal meth ravaged middle aged soccer moms in the 90s, pumpkin is the current fad drug of choice. Last week at the mall I saw a few ladies snorting pumpkin spice tea right out of the bags in the corner of J Crew.  

It has gotten that bad.

The effects of this epidemic are real.  Besides typical drug side effects like weight gain (taking too much pumpkin), weight loss (surviving on the scent of autumn harvest Yankee Candles instead of eating), irritability (why is Target always out of my FUCKING PUMPKIN POP TARTS), anxiety (oh my god, what am I going to do in December when they stop selling this shit), there are obvious physical changes the body goes through.

My normal calm, philosophical, lovely self.

GIVE ME MORE PUMPKIN YOU MOTHERFUCKKKERERRRRRSSSSSAAAGGGHGHGHHGHGHG!!!!!!!!!.............

It's like being the Incredible Hulk except orange instead of green.  And instead of becoming big and strong during your transformation... well, I can only describe it as a carb/sugar coma combined with an orgasm wrapped around a pumpkin patch full of Chris Pratt dipped in cinnamon sugar emptying the dishwasher.  

And the bad news is that unlike other drugs of yesteryear like the slime on the back of toads, pumpkin is extremely easy to procure.  It's in every corner market.  It's at every Starbucks.  It grows right out of the fricking ground people! The laws are so far behind this thing, you can plant pumpkins all over your goddamn lawn and not even get arrested for it.  

My Trader Joe's haul this morning.

I got all that shit you see above at the store today.  I didn't have to call a dealer. I didn't have to speak to anyone in code.  I didn't even have to hand over that much money.  All I needed to do was bring my own bags so the cashier wouldn't look me in the eye and see through to my very pumpkin stained soul.  Did I feel guilty?  A bit.  But that ended once I got into the car and rubbed pumpkin butter all over my nipples. 

So when you go to sleep at night, know this. There's a good chance you are sleeping next to a pumpkin addict.  And make no mistake, if you try to wrestle that pumpkin bagel away from us, we will cut you like the little bitch you are.