I saw a graffiti of J.Co Donuts on my Facebook wall. The aurora borealis-like rounded sweets were somewhat twirling inside an opened Tennessee orange box. The kaleidoscopic sight caught my optics as drooling jailbirds.
J.Co- "Jacob" minus the "b" sound, perhaps. Not for long I wore my spy boots and left with a furious stomach. The hunt was a sure go.
TARGET OPPONENT: Green Tease J.Co Donut
STATUS: Ruthlessly eatenExtracted from a teeny tea leaf found at the heart of seventh heaven, must I say it was. My memory never did unloose the actuality of that frothy cream welcoming a silverware. My tongue spooned the mossy glaze, letting it melt gradually to prolong the syrupy craze. I caught the taste of a saccharine bitterness. The moistened dough trespassed between my teeth, leaving a sugary spell.
My intellect is having its journey to the rubbish hills, this moment. The current quandary is that I am only conveying 50% of my precise hyperbolic encounter, while the other 50% is still lingering in some donuty trance.