Dyin’ For A Donut!


There oughta be a law!

As Bailey, my dog, and I were crossing an intersection with a stop sign in downtown Ayer, the car on my left, started rolling slowly towards us with no signs of stopping.

When I looked at the driver, she was raising a big old greasy chocolate covered, honey dipped donut to her mouth.

Seems her foot became detached from the brake somehow.

I banged on the hood and she snapped to as her lipstick and her rouge turned to chocolate and prevented that heart stopper from traversing down her gullet.

I walked over to the driver window and asked somewhat facetiously, if everything was OK in there. Then I noticed eleven more such weapons in a box on the passenger side.

I knew then I had come into contact with a card carrying Dunkin’ Donuts frequent flier. I gave her my best “you gotta be shittin’ me” look and decided it wasn’t worth keeping up such a senseless conversation.

They’re out there, loaded with sugar and rolling through a stop sign near you.

Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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