"This Krispy Kreme Tastes Like Krispy Krap!"

Monday, October 16, 2006, 1:25 PM

Krispy Kreme. It's a name that remains the scourge of English teachers everywhere.

I've taken part in the supposed "delight" of the Kreme before, and hated it. But admittedly, that was overseas, and we all know how things seem to translate differently in other countries. Like democracy, and Kylie Minogue.

So, in the interest of being objective, and for the benefit of you readers, I went down to the spankin' new Krispy Kreme in Collins St. (The Collins St. in Melbourne obviously, not the one in St. Albans East.)

"The Experience":

I walk into the store, and I'm hit with the stench of what I think a lollipop crematorium would smell like. I think for a moment how easy it would be for them to expand and become Krispy Kremetoriums. Go to the funeral and get your comfort food in one hit.

But I digress.

I seem to be surrounded by bogans, cockheads, slack-jawed yokels and pimply students. A fat family gorge on a couple of boxes in the corner. If the doughnut doesn't make me sick, these people will.

I'm served by a girl named Lovely. She tries in vain to hock me Ice Kreme. I start to wonder if I've entered the third circle of hell. I escape, marginally, but not before a laboured "Have a nice day".

The Look:
Well, at least it looks like a doughnut. Then again, I think it may be glowing slightly.

The Taste Test:

First, the fat. It feels like a mouthful of lard. My arteries swell from shock and I'm pretty sure I just gained ten pounds. Then, the sugar comes. Diabetes-inducing. I either hallucinated or went blind for a moment. Sugar overload. Back of my throat is burning. Also, I have the strange compulsion to drink coffee and read USA Today.

The stickiness of the sole of my size 9 suggests that Krispy Kreme doughnuts would make a top quality low-end adhesive.

Also, someone needs to point out to our good American friends that Kreme should never be Krispy, and that it's probably in violation of the health code when it is.

Tune in next week, when I will attempt to eat shard upon shard of broken, jagged glass. The things I do to entertain you guys.