I’ve been allocating some of my valuable (albeit seemingly limitless) free time to examining the human case study that is TBS’s “My Strange Addiction.” The more I watch, the more I realize that I don’t possess even half the dedication required to truly sustain an addiction. I’m pretty sure the old lady that has 60-something smelly, blind, tumor-ey, hairless rats loves her rats more than I’ll ever love any living being in my entire life. She cooks them spaghetti and bakes them cupcakes. I have to practically be on the brink of starvation before I’ll get up and boil food for myself.
The scary thing is that some of these addicts suddenly developed their issues after a traumatic experience, death of a loved one, etc. Imagine going from not even knowing what drywall is one day to eating chunks of it off your wall daily for the next seven years. Or, the guy who became obsessed with pulling hair out of shower drains after his father passed away. At least that one has career potential. The only personal observation I can relate this to is that I’ve noticed that after living in San Diego, I crave giant burritos constantly. Apparently, it’s only going to take one bad thing to happen before I’m stuffing twenty giant burritos in my face a day and telling everyone about it on national television.
