Hellacious- very great, bad, or overwhelming
Ex: Every time I’m on vacation I feel a hellacious desire to visit the local candy store. Maybe it’s because I used to be a little chubby child. Maybe it’s because I have no self-control (I would have failed Walter Mischel’s marshmallow test even if he told me all three of the Rice Krispies elves fell in a boiling vat and perished during the marshmallow making process). Maybe it’s just because I have a sweet-tooth. Maybe my behavior is a microcosm of the greater dopamine culture we all reside in. Regardless, if I’m in Boston, you bet your ass I’m going into Paul Revere Sweets Company (“The British Teeth are coming, The British Teeth are coming!”) and filling up a plastic bag with all sorts of goodies that are exorbitantly overpriced per pound. Gummy octopus? Throw that corn-syrup cephalopod into my bag of treats. Boston Baked Beans? Not really sure what they are, but they look like the type of Kidney stone that Rudolph the Reindeer would pass after one too many cups of clam chowdah down by the whahf. Add those in too. Fill in the bag’s remaining air-pockets with fun dip, the only guaranteed gateway drug to later cocaine usage. And of course, top up the bag with banana laffy taffy’s, because I’m a sick, sick man who should not trusted with the power to make my own choices.