If I ever go bad and swich over to the dark side of life… the doughnuts did it. In the kitchen — with a spatula.

I know I said once that boots could do it, but I need to add in doughnuts. Both of those things.

While driving home the other day I passed a Krispy Kreme store and there sat a bunch of KK trucks with pictures of big, lovely doughnuts displayed on the side. It was almost more than I could stand. I wondered, for a minute, if I could get in one of those trucks and drive off without being detected. First I would have to steal doughnuts to fill the back of it. I might get caught, but I would be happy.

How bad can doughnut jail be?

My aim is to not knowingly commit crimes – I want to be a good, law abiding citizen. But there’s them dang doughnuts.

I seriously think all the doughnut stores should let me be their spokesperson and pay me in doughnuts. That’s me — the perfect doughnut representative. I’m real and believable. I couldn’t advertise pickles or shrimp, but I could so talk about those sweet, lovely confections that make even the strongest dieter jelly-legged.

I feel a poem coming on, a soliloquy, if you will: an ode to those light, fluffy puffs of heaven on earth in the form of dough and sugar. Oh my….

I may have to go into business for myself and open up a corner doughnut cafe. The big question : what should my cafe sign say — is it doughnut or donut??