One of the modules of my get-a-grip regimen is about food. As in: I am eating differently. If you want to read an agonizing, day-by-day account, ask me for the password and read the devil’s cake posts. Warning: not for anyone sensitive to extreme longwindedness.

A byproduct of eating a boring, well-balanced diet is that off-limits food takes on fetish-like qualities in my mind. I have daydreams about little armies of hardboiled eggs — who I vanquish by mashing with some mayonnaise. I imagine eating a steak — not unusual, except that I think about kissing it beforehand. I think a lot about foods I never liked before. Potato skins with sour cream and bacon bits? Come here, let me wear you like a hat — before I eat 17 of you.

Ugh. I know. NaBloPoMo is forcing me to share details like this with you. I must mine every aspect of my psyche in order to give you, my delicious caramel-covered readers, something to read every day. Forgive me, I’m hangry.

Speaking of NaBloPoMo, our evil leader M. Kennedy overshares some sexyfood thoughts:

Right now I’m warming M&Ms in my belly button. I like to pinch them between my fingers until they crack before I eat them. I just invented this warming technique and I recommend it.

If you want some visual excitement, here are just a few of the many food photo groups on flickr:

• Food Porn
• I Ate This
• Slash Food
• Too Pretty to Eat
• Foodgasm

Of course, for every thing is the world, there is a sexual cult built around it, and food is no exception.

When I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and it is all one.

— MFK Fisher