I must be stopped.

Lately I've developed a pretty nasty addiction to fondness for crack Oreos. Not just the plain Oreos either. Double Stuf, baby. Dou-ble Stuf. I love them so dearly that I'm even willing to look past the fact that the geniuses at Nabisco don't know how to spell. They do, however, know how to make a divine cookie.

Now, you would think the fact that the mile run on the treadmill this morning (which actually caused me to vomit in the locker room -- have I mentioned I'm out of shape?) only burned off ONE freakin' cookie would cause me to run limp far, far away from the half-eaten package of Oreos that sits before me. But no. No, instead I keep shoveling them on in Cookie Monster style because, hello, the faster I eat them the faster they are out of this house. You can't really argue with that logic.

Besides, it should totally be illegal to make a cookie as ridiculously delicious as the DSO and then expect consumers to find the self control to stop after just two cookies. I can see clearly on the label that two cookies is a so-called serving size. But come on already. NOBODY can eat just two and you know it.

Unless of course there are only two cookies left in the package.

Which is how mine is looking right about now.

140 more calories, here I come.

Somebody stop me. I need an intervention.