Social media was full of donuts for a few days. It was fun. I want more of that. More donuts, please!
In a desperate attempt to keep the donuts coming, here is a donut-sized excerpt from Vice Report:
“They are standing outside their hybrid cruiser when I pull up, laughing and eating donuts. There were no parking spaces nearby. I had to park a block away. I suppose there is a big team here eating up all the parking on an already busy-for-street-parking Sunday morning. “Really?” I say as I walk up. “Isn’t that a stereotype?” “Visual joke,” Devin says, munching on a chocolate old-fashioned. “For you. Made at great personal sacrifice.” He’s wearing serious-looking Oakland PD-labeled SWAT-type gear. He bends his arm into a weightlifter pose, holding a donut instead of weights, sticks his tongue out in an exaggerated lick, touching the donut with its tip. I get out my phone to take a photo. Olivia puts her finger through the hole of a raised glaze and licks her finger—so I can see the manicure. “Sexy! Sexy!” I say. “Give me a tiger! Give me a kitten!” They mug for the camera, switching positions, ass butting. She hangs on him, pinup-girl style. He kneels in front of her and holds one foot as if fitting her for shoes. They do it all with donuts.”
