Confessions are for the guilty.

Are jalapenos a substance? If so, somebody needs to call a substance abuse hotline and report me. I can't get enough of them. I feel like a meth addict with a conscience. I know how they make me feel the next day. I know how they inflame my esophagus with a fire that would make Satan himself break a sweat. But in my case, knowledge leads to stupidity and the desire to have even more. Something about that spicy sensation and the steady flow of liquids from every hole in my head keeps me coming back for more. Someday it will be a crime to have jalapenos and I will be an enemy of the state, garnishing my salads and enchiladas in a secret compartment under my house. And when they finally catch me, my only two requests will be immunity for my family (as they will know nothing of my secret jalapeno lair) and a prescription for ulcer medication.