We all enjoy a lovely bowl of porridge or two or three in the morning. But how much porridge (“oatmeal” for Americans) is too much porridge?

There is a natural segue from healthy amounts to death by porridge consumption.

Today, we’re helping this sad act addict overcome his addition to what should be an innocuous, healthy breakfast staple. See, too, if you can spot where this individual is going wrong in his life.

When Oatmeal Becomes Lethal

WARNING: We are not qualified or coherent medical professionals. Ignore all of our idiotic, hopeless, and worthless “advice”.

Dear Dr. Moron,

My mother warned me about him. She said, “Desmond is showing an alarming lack of control when eating his porridge for breakfast. I think that’ll become a big problem. Mark my words. In 10 years you’ll be rushing him to hospital because he’s ODing and flatlined. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Barbara!”

Well, mum was right. Desmond’s porridge eating was out of control within 48 months of marrying him. He’d get up, eat a carton of porridge, then spend all day, every day, eating porridge. By midday he’d given up on adding milk and just sat there, on the couch, stuffing DRY porridge oats into his face mindlessly while watching re-runs of ’90s episodes of Supermarket Sweep.

I said to him one morning, when 8 years into this spree, and I said to Desmond, “Desmond… you’re a mess, mate, what’s going on?” It was 11am and he was too packed full with oats to move and was laying sprawled out on the living room floor, head to one side so he could catch those endless Supermarket Sweet re-runs.

He didn’t bat an eyelid. 30 minutes later, when I’d cleared off to the kitchen, he was able to wheeze, “Don’t tell me what to do… woman!”

Well, enough was enough—I got all the porridge supplies in the house, took them out into the drive, doused them all in petrol, and BURNED the oats to the ground. Incinerated. Not one oat left!

Desmond was hysterical! Last time I saw him that sad was when Barnsley lost 1-0 to Burnley. He was yowling. Yowling! It went on for DAYS! In the end he started how porridge withdrawal and we had to hook him up to a oats drip at hospital to force the stuff back into his system. He’s not talking to me now because he thinks I was trying to kill him.

What do I do? I don’t want him to not exist anymore because of his oats addiction but at the same time IT’S GONE TOO FAR!!!

Yours in a time of crisis,

Barbara

Hi there, Barbara. Yes, your husband is an addict. But if you want your original husband back, and not one whom is a slave to porridge, you need to take drastic intervention.

It’s estimated 451 million people stop existing each year because of consuming oats.

Granted, that may be due to external factors. Some would argue, for example, that falling off a cliff isn’t the fault of oats production companies. However, if someone had had some eggs on soldiers that morning instead of porridge, maybe they wouldn’t have been so stodgy. Maybe they’d have been alert enough to not fall off a cliff.

Anyway, you need to get him off the stuff. We prescribe a hearty course of:

1. Absinthe
2. Cocaine
3. Cigarettes
4. Donuts
5. Instant noodles

Ply him with all five at random intervals. He’ll be soon addicted to all of them and, thankfully, mercifully, and joyously, his life destroying porridge addiction will hath been slaked. As, frankly, having a cocainist in the house is much more tolerably then someone pigging out on oats.

Apparently. Until they smash your front door down with an axe in a fit of absinthe-induced, cocaine addled rage. But what price is that to pay over having to watch Supermarket bloody Sweep again? Exactly.