The Sam's Club Hot Dog Combo is of the Devil

Even though I often say “I love food!” I don't really mean “love.” Then again, I don't think I mean “lust” either. Whether love or lust comes into play when referring to any of my food choices, I know not. What I do know is that I am guilty of at least seven other deadly sins whenever I indulge in one of the tastiest temptations to come along since the forbidden fruit itself: The Sam's Club Hot Dog Combo. At only a buck fifty, this oversized jumbo dog, when accompanied by an even larger soda, is nothing less than a life-shortening heart attack wrapped in foil and prepared, at an irresistible bargain price, by none other than the devil himself.

Here is how seven of the deadly sins manifest themselves every time I partake:

Sloth, in that I am far too lazy to make my own lunch and would rather drive clear to Provo than engage in any sort of food prep.

Greed, in that I am only willing to spend $1.50 for my meal, thus hanging on to the remaining eight dollars and fifty cents found in my wallet as though they were my last (because usually they are).

Gluttony, as I savor every last bite of the salt-infested, ketchup-slathered, mustard-dotted, onion-sprinkled, relish-infused, artery-clogging weenie in a bun.

Envy, in the eyes of the jealous passersby as they long for a bite of my juicy hot dog on steroids.

Wrath, when I realize I have just consumed more fat calories in a single setting than I do in a regular weekend!

Pride, at the realization that I could consume this same diet every day of the week for the next year and probably never gain an ounce (thanks to my overactive metabolism).

Vainglory, as I think to myself: If only I could look as good as this thing tastes!

MMM! MMM! MMMMMM!