Tuesday, March 2, 2010

"Gateway Drug"

So I'm shopping the other day in "Metaphors 'R Us" and in typical Mama C fashion, the first place I head for is the clearance rack. I'm pawing through a bin of symbolism cast-offs when I come across an awesome one. "Twilight is Like Marijuana." You like? Good, because I bought it specifically to use for this blog entry. And damn, it was cheap...like 75% off.

Coincidentally, I ran into Steph Meyers there. She was trying to return the "Bella is Like Heroin" metaphor, but she didn't have her receipt. Pity. She's lookin' good though. Dropped a few pounds. She said to tell you all hello.

It occured to me while I was sorting through my list of recent DvD acquisitions, that Twilight really has been my "gateway drug". It's been harmless, really. Just a little, innocuous vice, like smokin' weed. I watch it once or twice a week and it relaxes me. Makes me all hooded-eyelids mellow & chilled out. Nothing wrong with that, I mean, nobody gets hurt, right?


Turn it over, and there is a dark, diseased underbelly to this seemingly harmless little habit. Initially just a recreational activity, Twilight has lead to some much more gripping addictions.

Sure, at first I rationalized that my need was under control. Yes, I have all of the books. I own the Twilight movie on Blu-Ray with a digital copy on my I-pod, and well....I talk about it on my YouTube Channel and then there's this blog. And my den. And my Cullen Car Collection. And my puppy I named Bella. And the wallpaper on my office PC. But that's it! That's all there is. It's not controlling my life or anything. I've got this.

Or so I thought.

Eventually, Twilight wasn't enough. I was constantly craving more. More of something. More of....him. Still, I couldn't admit it to myself. Instead, I went out in search of this:

I didn't have the capacity to understand it, and I didn't fucking care. I was literally trippin'. Straight up, hallucinogenic fantasies. Those lips curled around a cigarette...that perfect face in never-ending close-up shots, those ridiculously long fingers gripping bedsheets. Shit...I was on the Psychadelic Express train to Robtopia. But once I stepped off, I was confused as fuck. And not...not...satisfied.

Luckily, not soon after, came this:

Easy enough to get for a while...I mean, it was IN THEATERS. They wouldn't make it so legally available to me if it weren't safe, right? Until of course, it wasn't in theatres anymore. That's when I descended into the underground. I had to resort to a seedy torrent download to get my fix. I rationalized that since I had paid to see it 10 times on the straight & narrow, just a little tiny hit on my laptop meant nothing. I needed it to keep me focused. Sharp. On task.

Until this:

And with this....my soul spiraled down into the deep, dark, unsavory world of irreversible Robddiction. I hadn't expected to like this one as much as I did. But the temptation was irresistable and when I finally gave in, no one was more shocked than I was that I liked it. I liked it a whole lot. I mean...he man-snogs and touches himself for fuck's sake. I couldn't have stopped myself from repeated doses of that for all the lip-biting in Stewtopia.

By now, the dealers know me. My wallet and I are welcomed with open arms and wide smiles. "Why yes, Mama...we've got just what you need. In fact, there's a shipment of some exciting new stuff coming on March 12th."

Holy Mary, Mother of Rainbow Pretty Pharmaceuticals, it's a full on Rob Rave. Pass the blinky pacifiers and glowing necklaces baby, 'cause I am all over that shit like Calvin Klein's on Kellan's package.

Of course, eventually, even the X won't be enough. I'll need some hard stuff. Some rated "R" stuff. Some...the-boy-is-a-French-man-whore-and-fucks-a-woman-MY-AGE-on-a-chair stuff. The kinda stuff you just don't recover from without professional help. THIS, will be my rock Rob bottom.

Intervention time, you say?

I am telling you, I won't go.


Because I really do have this under control.

I don't need help.

I don't want help.

Help me.


  1. I know exactly how you feel, specially the I don't want help part. Non-Twilighters just don't get it and I really don't care. It's just good to know we are not alone

  2. ROFLMFAO!!! (Learned that from you, btw.) Rob is definitely my addiction, and I need a fix every damn day. No shakes from withdrawal for me. I'm on a steady drip of Robporn and like it that way.


  3. OMG, that is funny. I can't believe you compared Bel Ami to Crystal Meth. I love it.
    For me, Rob as well, is my drug. And with that addiction, came nasty hasbits. The fanfics, the obsession with the YA section of my bookstore, the blogs, the photos... Intervention will not work for me, either.

  4. Amen sister. Hadn't realized how bad I was until a co-worker in another state IM'd me to ask if I was looking forward to Remember Me. Damn, I guess I have a reputation.

  5. LMAO @Lisa, STEADY DRIP OF ROB PORN..too funny.
    Great post Mama Cougar! Very creative and VERY TRUE.

  6. If so many are doing it, how bad can it be? ;)

    I am glad we are all in this together.

    Excellent and clever post!

  7. It's funny that you should do this post, cause I was gonna do a disturbingly similar one today. Just last night, before I went to bed, I picked up my copy of Twilight, and read the back cover of the book, for the first time ever. And among other things it said: "Twilight will stay with you for long after you turn the last page". And I thought No fucking shit. They should print that in big red letters, as a warning.

    So, loosely speaking, you just took the post out of my hands. ;D
    Confessions of a Twiholic

  8. "...for all the lip-biting in Stewtopia"
    "...'cause I am all over that shit like Calvin Klein's on Kellan's package."

    Just when I think you've reached your peak of geniousness, you hit me again with your outrageously clever hilarity. God, I love ya!

  9. "Hello. My name is VitaminR. I, too, have this addiction/Robdicktion. My family made me come here today. I will tell you what I told them...I NEVER want to be cured. Thank you and goodbye."

    Hot damn! I love your brain. I love that you made these photos with the drugs. Can I post these on the Twitarded Facebook page? Pretty please with RPattz on top. I will give you full credit I promise.

  10. I am so glad there are fellow Rob addicts such as myself. I am the resident "Twilight/Rob" addict at work. If anybody needs to know anything, I am the person they come to. I have my Rob shrine at home. I was sure to catch all his TV apperances to promote Remember Me. I had the thought the other day that it's a good thing he doesn't ever start a cult, because if he did, I would probably join.

  11. All the very best humor comes from real life I think, and Damn Me if this isn't as true as anything I've ever heard. ROTFL!!! No telling the hubby though. He might stage an intervention! Horrors!

    So glad to find you. Mamas gotta stick together. ;)

  12. Everything I've been feeling in one sarcastic, humorous post! EPIC!!!!!

  13. @Library Babe - Ditto for me!!


  14. Holy crap....wow! I guess it's time to admit that I have a problem. No wait, I don't have the problem - everyone else does. (yeah, yeah, denial) Well, there is NO turning back, is there.

    Anyway,you made my night with this post! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

  15. HAHAHA! You're hilarious! Where have you been!?! Have I missed a CD episode or did you go underground!?! I can't WAIT to here what you thought of Remember Me. What was your initial reaction (duh!) and how many times have you seen it so far?

  16. Holy Mother... I mean Mama ~ this may very well be the best (uhem... most accurate) post yet!

    I too have refused treatment ~ on several occasions.
    I am fairly suspicious that my children are in the process of planning an intervention as we speak.
    I am not paranoid... I'm prepaired!
    I will out wit them ~ I don't have a problem. Really ~ I am just teaching them to be more independent... how old should they be to cook for themselves??

  17. woah mama. me likey your post. and no doubt you've seen this before, but i just had to share here since it just seems so right...and i have no fucking intention of ever going to rob rehab!


  18. Alright, poppin' my Mama Cougar cherry; right here, right fucking now. And oh, how you make me feel. Love this. Aaaaaand, bookmark.