It would appear that, in other areas of the country, they are sometimes called "bismarcks," but despite the proliferation of Teutonic people in the midwest, we don't really brook the Deutsch, opting instead for a simple visual descriptive (see also: Bronze John, a common name for yellow fever), applied with care to the best and most delicious donut on earth: the custard longjohn.
Jeremy and I were somehow on the topic of donuts. I have the sweet tooth of a diabetic grizzly and am a fervent fan of donuts; most weekends, my dad would get up early and head to the store for a selection of donuts in a white cardboard box, greased-dotted, and we would just eat shitloads of donuts until noon (it will perhaps come as no surprise that my dad had a heart attack at 47). Donuts offer variety that make them lifelong loves--you can never really get sick of a donut, since once you've had enough of the white-iced sprinkles, you can swing on over to cinnamon twist or devil's-food-cake. Everyone, though, has his favourite donut. For me--after a valiantly-fought battle against both the crushed-nut and the chocolate-with-sprinkles--the longjohn was the victor, owing equally to its textural goodness (the chocolate icing with its slightly crisp shell; the yeast-based pastry ]not a cake donut, no; like a cinnamon twist] encasing the smoothly seductive custard filling) and its actual substance. a longjohn can actually make an impact on hunger, unlike the fattified sugar-air that are Krispy Kremes, which incidentally can suck it.**
On the way to work, we were listening to NPR and Bush's press conference with Tony "Facefull of Dipthongs" Blair, and Matty's genius is such that he characterized Bush's plan for Palestine as "Palestine U.S.: Your American dollar-store in the Middle East" to which I responded "or Palestine U.S.A.: Your A-rab surf and spa destination."
Let us do our work
Ideas for building national unity: "Eagles on everything! Eagles pulling up the blindfold on Lady Justice." "And with the other hand, claw, whatever, holding up a sheet over her boobies. Eagles knocking her over and holding the scales themselves goddamnit. Iraq on one side, the steaks of freedom on the other. BALANCING. In JUSTICE." "Freedom. Freedom." "The steaks of freedom are delicious, and they are medium-rare." "When we hard work."
Political commentary genius of Matty, part 3
BUSH: "And today one of the people that I work closest with is my friend Prime Minister Koizumi...The prime minister knows Koizumi. He's a good man. And he's an ally because democracy took hold in Japan."
BLAIR: "First of all, I should say Koizumi's a good man not just because I know him, but... Although that helps a lot I think."
MATTY [in kindergarten voice]: "We like Koizumi. We draw koi fish together with him at times."
How does it happen? I try to set aside whole weekends for nothing but work (art work, not work work GOD BARF), but suddenly it's all "Well let's talk on Friday and then party in Los Al at eleven, Saturday there's a Mac expo and a party, then Sunday girls-only party on Naples Island--" and before you know it, you wake up in Temecula with a nosebleed and tattoo of Jim Backus on your ass. Seriously. I love my friends, and I know I am terribly pretty and popular, but I need to get my work done, people. It's how I'm earning my new computer!!
On the other hand I am quite fond of running amok. What da fuck. clm.
f o o t n o t e s
* aka "jimmies," the loss of which I made up for by dumping them all over Rice Krispies as a kid--this was apparently an accepted habit, passed down by my great-aunt Lil, wearer of crocheted-collar sweatshirts. The sprinkles muddy the milk and Krispies grey by the time you get to the bottom, and then there are a pile of soggy, discolored sprinkles that you get to munch happily, waxily. FUCK all other cereals, man.
** I don't actually mean that; I just like hating on the Popular Kid.