Oh what a beautiful morning

The beauty of some mornings can't be cloaked by idiot drivers, a less than engaging career, and the inability to eat a real breafast because I had an extra 200 calories last night at dinner. Yes, there are some days where everything is coming up roses. You only get fifteen offers via email to help transfer money out of Nigeria or you find a McDonalds where "We're sorry sir, our ice cream machine is broken today" isn't a part of their vocabulary.

Today is one of those days, simply because of this article.

That's right, kids. Dunkin Donuts is returning to Indy.

Now I'm sure those of you on the east coast or up in Chicago are reading this saying, "But gee, Bret. There are already 15 Dunkin Donuts locations within 2 blocks of any spot in town. Every Indian in our town owns his or her own Dunkin Donuts franchise!" (Before I get hate mail, the girl in this franchising info is even Indian...or perhaps Hispanic...in any case... It's just a fact!)

But au contraire, my little blogging buddy. Indy has been Dunkin-less for the past couple of years. We had one final franchise near where I work, but the staff there acted as if they had been forced to work each morning at gun point and then made to endure the putrid stink of warm, fresh pastries all day. Every donut they served had been present since the last election and was so stale as to even make it inedible by my, ever slipping standards.

So the news of 80 NEW FRANCHISES in the area is music to my ears. Nothing in my childhood made me more happy than my mom piling me into one of our classic cars to make a run to Dunkin Donuts. Starting at around age two, I could polish off three chocolate cream filled donuts without even stopping to breathe. And Munchkins...oh the boxes of those little donut holes I could eat. I'm pretty sure I still have a Munchkin lodged in my aorta someplace.

I'd better stop. This is already starting to make my poor, empty stomach hurt. But it does give me something to look forward to.

In other news, I was driving into work this morning listening to the radio, and I was becoming tired of hearing what Paris Hilton burped up after her breakfast or retrieved from between her toes when I got behind a nice, shiny new car with a bumper sticker prominantly placed in the middle of the rear bumper.

"My child hit a hole-in-one at Putt Putt"

Really? That's what you've got? Your kid didn't get straight A's or join Mathletes? So sad.