Sunday, May 29, 2011

I used to hate you, but now I don't - oh, wait - I still might

You know how sometimes you think you hate something, but then you try it again after a long while and you find out it's not true?  And then you feel kind of dumb because you've totally been missing out on that thing?  And then you feel great because now you can take so much advantage of your newfound love and abuse it until you hate it again??  YEAH.

So.  This is about me and donuts, mainly.  I know: how can I have hated donuts?  What's there to hate?  They're basically wheels of cake coated in sugar paste in some form or another.  I love cake and sugar and ESPECIALLY paste.  So what was the problem??  I'm not exactly sure.  I think a lot of the time the glaze would be too sweet and the cake too dry.  I would just rather have a piece of cake or a cupcake than a donut.  There's no true science to this.  The tummyheart wants what it wants.
But I'd always want to want a donut.  In high school the Krispy Kreme craze was at an all-time high and I recall numerous occasions where there would be boxes of these readily available.  But I was not interested.  In fact, I remember taking one and having a bite of it because everyone was so nuts over them and then I threw the rest away.  Because it was not good.  It was like biting into hot oily cotton candy.  And as much as I love cotton candy, I hate things soaked in hot oil more.
And don't get me started on jelly donuts.  Those things are still nasty to me.  They're like the meanest surprise ever.  You're happily eating a cakey, sugary dough ball and then BAM - oozy grackly jelly overwhelms the palate, taking a big jammy dump in your mouth.  Maybe people just use crap quality fillings or something.  But also they're so totally vulgar.  Just look at that photo.  It's like a poopy little bottom that can't hold it in and that, my chums, is the worst kind of bottom.

Anyway.  Recently I started trying donuts again.  A bite here.  A bite there.  And I wasn't repulsed.  I actually almost enjoyed myself.  And then I had Top Pot in Seattle.  And it was really Top.  And then I had a mystery donut in Berkeley.  It was really mysterious.  And I LOVE donuts now.  Sometimes.
However, a person is not a donut.  I know, I know.  It took me a while to realize this, too.  And people can't become donuts, either.  I know, I know.  I was surprised, too.

And so we come to the end of  our tale:

Sometimes there were people who were turds 5 years ago.  And they're still turds today.  Taking big jammy dumps inside the mouth of life.  How exactly does a turd take a big jammy dump?  Is a turd not, in fact, a dump already?  Can a dump beget more dump?  How would that even work?  These are the questions that rumble my jungle in the dead of night.

If you can't stand the heat, get out of my toilet.

PS You are correct in assuming that "my jungle" is, in fact, my butt.

1 comment:

charlotteburdin said...

The jammy centre was only invented so unsuspecting victims would get a red stain down the front of their white shirts..