“Gleefully wacky and irreverent.”

–The New York Times

“Line by line, Mr. Rudnick may be the funniest writer for the stage in the United States today.”

–The New York Times

“Deeply funny musings and adventures elevate Paul Rudnick to the highest level of American comedy writing.”

–Steve Martin

“One of the funniest quip-meisters on the planet.”

–The New York Times

“Paul Rudnick is a champion of truth (and love and great wicked humor) whom we ignore at our peril.”

–David Sedaris

“Quips fall with the regularity of the autumn leaves.”

–Associated Press

January 16, 2014

Sugar Is The One True God and You Know I’m Right


People are either fascinated or apalled by my eating habits. The New York Times once interviewed me about them and the writer, David Colman, and I enjoyed an especially satisfying trip to the Hershey store in midtown, which is pretty much my church. If you’d like to read this piece, there’s a link to it in the Interviews section of this blog.

To summarize: I enjoy the diet of an independantly wealthy four-year-old orphan. I eat only want I want, which tends towards milk chocolate, certain breakfast cereals, baked goods and water. I’ve also written about this in my essay collection, I Shudder.

After the Times piece was published, the Hershey people sent me a delerious collection of wonderful treats, including a Hershey’s Kiss as big as my head, which was filled with a trove of regular-sized Kisses. It was a Hershey’s Kiss which gave birth. It was a hive.

I also received a Hershey bar so large that it arrived in its own gleaming silver tote bag, packed with dry ice. This Hershey bar knew how to travel.

hershey park 027

At the M&Ms store, across the street from the Hershey flagship, you can get M&Ms in custom colors, including khaki, magenta and silver. There used to be a mystical machine in the store, where if you stood on a circle embedded in the floor and held onto a lever, the machine would predict your personal M&M color. Can your therapist do that?
At another M&M store, which I think was in Vegas, you could buy a round dining room table and matching chairs, all shaped like M&Ms.

I feel towards the Hershey corporation the way some people feel about Walt Disney: if there’s a dark side to the empire, I don’t want to know about it.

Strangers who find out about my diet will sometimes approach me and in urgent whispers, confess similar habits. I encourage these people. I’m like a rehab counsellor who tells addicts, “You should really inject more heroin. It’s the best.”

I love that in marketing journals, candy products are referred to as “confections.” It’s a giddy, appealing word. Why would anyone want grains or beef or poultry, when they could have a confection?


While I try not to play favorites, I’m currently having a major Payday moment. Payday bars are clusters of salted peanuts cemented with something sweet and caramel-esque; I’m not sure precisely what this connective stuff is, but it tastes heavenly and makes the peanuts, and me, so happy.


The above photo is either a spaceship shaped like a Kiss, or a Kiss discovered on another planet, where it was rightfully worshipped.

Our family beagle, at an advanced age, died after leaping onto a table and devouring an outsize bar of unsweetened baker’s chocolate. While I know that chocolate is bad for most animals, I like to think that our dog died happy.

Of course, candy is an epic topic, and could never be covered in a single blog post. We’ll return to it.