MINTroducing this amazing donut 🌱🍩🍫
Never met a fry I didn’t like especially @dunkindonuts
new donut fries 🍟🍩
Get em while they’re hot
After a long weekend, it’s time for everyone to get a donut.
We have our classic donuts, plus our specialist donuts, and now also serving breakfast sandwiches.
Don’t forget to like and comment on this post to be entered into this week’s free donut giveaway.
“Oh yay it’s Monday,” said no one 😂 How about dreaming of sweet summer indulgences? See our NYC roundup in our Summer Travel Issue http://bit.ly/July2018TravelIssue
Let us put the jam back in your donut. 😉
chat thai part 1: par thung go (fried dough sticks)
u ask the doe-frying-guy for permission to film him and he indykates his approoval.
u feel good that u have a consensual IG content interr-action cuz u’d prefer not to get in to unapproved toylet-cam styel situations.
u ask the person at the register, Chopper, for the par thung go (or as u white-lee say “gimme dat fried doe”) and also sum soy milk.
Chopper is like, “eyebrow raise soy milk?”, but then Chopper recognizes what yerr tall-king aboot (cause u didnt even attempt the thai name u degenerate HUH-WHY-TAH fuk, expecting everyone to accomodate u). Big Bad Chopper axe’s if a u want a drank topping and yerr like “wuts the topping?” and the Chop-meister says “sago” and yr like “wuts dat” but Chopper has trouble elucidating it (lul every1 nose that sago is s a starch extracted from the spongy centre, or pith, of various tropical palm stems, especially that of metroxylon sagu) but n-e-way hoo r u kidding - woteva the topping is yule have it.
u den ask Choppah “wut is dat other person in the dessert prep area making?” (cuz yr never sure of yerr food related decisions n maybee derr making sumting dat u’d want insteed) but there are three different ppl in the desert prep airy-ahh and Choppah points to a grrl on the left of the kitchen and says “spring rolls” but yr actual-lee ass-king aboot the grrl in the rite of the kit-chin at the pot mayking wut looks like tappy-okah ballz and yr like “no the udder person *points to pot grrl*” but then Choppah points to the originall doe guy and den u all get into diss non violet mexican bakeoff, hoose on first type situation where Choppah points to each pearson in the kitch-N one by one and final-lee points to the girl making balls (heh) and u confirm this is the person u were originally asking aboot and Choppah is like “ahhhhhhhhhh, she’s making the sago”. u get yerr order and ask for a straw for the drank and Choppah is like “wtf” and Choppah sez they’ll give u a spoon and sends u off by telling u that the sago “is good for yerr health” which from the shit u eat is prolly extremely Ness S. Airy.
u sit on the curb near da outside of the resstraun... (see part 2 for more)
chat thai part 2: par thung go (fried dough sticks)
u plunge yer hand into the depths of the paper bag of doe stix, yer arm like a claw machine’s claw greedily grasping for a nintendo ds amidst a sea of stuffed animals.
u fish out a hot, flash fried till golden, crispy, four armed, starfish shaped dough stick, then tear it in haff like a deranged pediatric surgeon who’s late for a haircut operating on conjoined twins.
oil from the sticks now coats yr fingers, lubricating u for de sensual chow down ahead (as well as providing a much needed re-oiling for yer robotic luke skywalker hand).
u find dat da doe is being inexplicably drawn towards the pandan custard, as if the pandan has its own grav-it-ayy-sean-all pulley.
slowly, slowly, the pull of the pandan draws yer hand in in until the doe slips over the event horizon into the pandan, dough stick and custard consummating in wat can only be described as a “dunk of extahsee”.
u douse the doe stick in pandan until its coated like a seabird at an oil spill, den raise the stick towards yr mouff, the pandan drip, drip, dripping off the tip of the doe like the pre-cum of sum sexy dessert gingrr bread man.
u open yerr maw and resseev the package.
the pandan hits yr tongue and yer enveloped its in pure green cocnut embrace.
den da doe hits and u feel it, u fuckin feel it and its hot and its in yr mouth and its the way things should be n for a moment u forget about trump n brexit n fascism n the kidz beanne rypped from derr parents and the infinite expansion of the universe and its jus u n the dough, purrfectly still in time n space.
the doe crinkkles and crakkles as yerr teef ripp into thru thee hot, Chris. P, Krun Chee, golden, exterior and gnash into the hidden, private heaven of the soft, white, pillowy, fluffy insides, its hot savoriness perfectly balancingg with the sweet cool pandan custard.
the hole thing is sooo delish dat u wonder huh-y donuts are not fresh n hawt all the thyme.
u stifle yr Xtascy as to not trouble thee general populace (for in yr dessert hunting u have gained knawledge of countless Heathens dat dey r not privvee too) as various city randos wok by... (see part 3 for thee finalee)
Glam shot of the cannoli donut.
chat thai part 3: par thung go (fried dough sticks)
yerr meal of S.N. Chia Lee donuts and milk has booth satisfied and satiated u.
eeting dat doe wuz prolly the closet u will ever get to heaven given dat u imagine its just blackness when u ded.
but…but…but u real-eyez those werds do not do the par thung go justice.
the par thung go is so much more than a dough stick.
it is a little slither of neural joy that implants itself within your brain, radiating a flicker of memory happiness whenever u recall of sitting on the bench that night in the cold eating par thung go.
it is the guiding light and warmth that provides a pinprick of light in yr mental darkness when u get fired from yr job, when yr partner leaves u, when yr parents die.
u normally cant put yr finger on wat dat tiny light urging u forwards in those low times is, but now it is revealed: it is the par thung go.
n when u lie dying in the year 2120, surrounded not by yerr loved 1’s but by robot cowgirls and yerr revanant tasmanian tiger pet in the post anthropocene wasteland, it is the memory of the par thung go that will fill u with warmth as u pass to the nex world.
bcuz a bite of food passes in seconds and a meal passes in hours and minutes but the memory of the par thung go, that mental slither, yer burnt in neurons firing, is wut will stay with u foreva.
none-da-less, in da few-chur u’d prefer to consume the fud in a restaurant as opposed to goblin it down on a bench like sum charles dickens urchin boi.
but now, wiffout the warmth of the donuts and milk, u r cold.
satisfied and satiated, u catch the train bak to yerr car and dry-vuh homme.
Good morning – time to make the most of a new week! #HappyMonday