And I Used to Be a Personal Trainer, by Gerald Tirade

I made some coffee this morning, I treat it
Like a delicacy, just like my physique. Then I proceeded
to toast a thin whole grain bagel, but just for
fun I strolled to the pantry to lay my eyes on
the sound asleep donuts, and you know what?
The unbelievable jerks in this house!
They’ve eaten all the donuts except for my
favorites, the cinnamon powdered ones. So I
I’m going to get even with these buffoons, once and
for all! For making my favorite donuts feel
bad. Because donuts have feelings too, you
So I grabbed a cinnamon powdered donut, I
kissed it gently and then bit off more than
what was willing to fit in my mouth. Now I
don’t normally drink milk, but there is no
other remedy for this situation so I ran past
the trash can to the fridge, I opened the
door, slapped the gallon of water out of the
way, gosh why is it always in the way of the juice and the sodas and the MILKS, then I
grabbed the liquid gold. I poured its
contents, the nectar of the cows, over the
donut who rest half chewed and sticking out
of my mouth. It was then easy to ingest.
Just a couple extra swigs for good luck.
I was superbly satisfied. Ahh? but
what is this? There is still the other
half of the donut in my hand. So I take
another bite, a modest one this time, you
know we must savor the fine moments of life,
and I gulped some more milk and took another
bite and I chewed, and I did it again and again
until it was gone.
but something had taken its place.
A thirst. A thirst for more donuts.
Which felt at the least unquenchable.
So I had another.
And another.
And I had the last one too, I could not soften up
before the deed was done!
I thought, maybe this will teach those bigots
maybe now they’ll learn to be fair. 
Ooh, but my tummy it is in such excruciating pain.
I’m wondering if maybe I shouldn’t have had all those donuts
yesterday night.
-Gerald Tirade