Wednesday, December 19, 2001

I don't know who it was. I don't care who it was. The fact is this:

You do NOT leave an empty box of Krispy Kremes sitting out, fooling the innocent donut consuming public into believing a tasty treat is within their grasp, only to have their hopes dashed by the donut-vacuum within. I experienced the crushing emptiness of the box this morning, containing only the donut run-off of a few red and green sprinkles. Truly a sad sight. I drew the line at licking the inside of the box, in a pathetic attempt to glean the last shreds of Krispy Kreme goodness from the unfeeling white cardboard.

As everyone knows, Krispy Kremes are best donuts in this world. And I ought to know, because I live in Southern California. There are a ridiculous amount of donut shops here. I'd even go so far as to say that there's a plethora. And that's not a word I use lightly. So there you go. They have drive-thru donut shops. They have giant donut-shaped donut shops. I'd be willing to guess that donuts in this county probably outnumber mammals. That (besides being a recipe for a nightmare donut-coup of epic proportions, led by a deluded Maple Bar who seizes power before he can be eaten) is way too many donuts.

So, of course I'm going to have a Krispy Kreme jones for days now, until I give in and drive in a rabid donut fury to get a box of the damn things. Life is so hard.

And I don't even really like most donuts. I just eat one every now and then to remind myself how icky they are.


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