Last week was probably the strangest donut week of my life.
Maybe you heard about this, but there I am, checking out the news online, and then I see it.
I mean … whoa. Talk about a tasty heart attack.
As a gluttonous treat of epic proportions, in certain places you can now order, not just a hamburger … not just a bacon cheeseburger … but a bacon cheeseburger … topped with a fried egg … with the bun replaced with … you guessed it … not just one, but[i] two[/i] glaLast week was probably the strangest donut week of my life.
Maybe you heard about this, but there I am, checking out the news online, and then I see it.
I mean … whoa. Talk about a tasty heart attack.
As a gluttonous treat of epic proportions, in certain places you can now order, not just a hamburger … not just a bacon cheeseburger … but a bacon cheeseburger … topped with a fried egg … with the bun replaced with … you guessed it … not just one, but[i] two[/i] glazed Krispy Kreme donuts! One on each side!
On the one hand it’s just a disgusting mutation of grease that might kill me if I ate it. And on the other hand, it sounds so incredibly, sinfully good that I’m more than just a little bit tempted to try it. Naturally, I’d have a defibrillator nearby and eat outside of a hospital, but still …
That was donut week, phase I.
The next day, at the office, somebody brought in a box of Dunkin Donuts, which, I’ve found, I’m not as crazy about as I thought I was. They’re okay. I mean, they’re donuts, which by definition are good, but my memory of them just doesn’t seem to match up with reality any more. But still …
There they are, sitting in an open box, in the kitchen, being the evil little temptresses that they are. And I’m telling myself [i]I shouldn’t eat one I shouldn’t eat one I shouldn’t eat one I shouldn’t eat one[/i] …
I know! I’ll eat part of one! Perfect!
So I take a knife out of the draw and start to chisel away a slice of a glazed donut with chocolate frosting. But since I don’t want to pick up the donut–if I pick it up I know I’ll eat the whole darn thing–I put my hand on the edge of the box to hold it steady.
Ow! Frick!
I sliced my friggin finger open on the donut box.
Donuts. So much danger. So much temptation.
I’m weak, weak, weak, weak …
And yes. Bloody finger and all, I ate the damn donut.
