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Macadamia nuts taste wet because they have so much fat!

For one whole week, a poor friend and I made a nightly ritual of shoplifting a glut of food from the grocery store across the street from my apartment.  We would get back to my place, unload our heavy coats in my kitchen, and then prepare our evening's feast.  We gorged ourselves on bricks of fine cheese, dozens of biscuits drooling butter, jumbo lump crab meat, and more Toblerone prisms than I'd care to recall.

But every night, no matter what else we were eating, there were always macadamia nuts.

For my friend and me, the exhiliration in our week of feasting ritual came not from the stealing (which I am mostly ashamed of), but rather from the hedonistic consumption of food.

We kept remarking to each other about how we were letting ourselves go.  Over and over again, we repeated variants of this phrase to each other with the chubby excitement of schoolboys.  We laughed about obesity, about our fast food nation, and at our own abusive consumption, all while we quite literally stuffed our faces.

The macadamia nuts became a symbol of our excess.  Among explosions of butter, honey and chocolate we'd return to our anchor taste, a fistful of macadamias.  We were profoundly enamoured of these nuts: so outrageously expensive, so inherently decadent -- these were pregnant horse pills of fatty wet excess, and we were hooked on excess.

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