My Secret Donutphobia
Since you are such a loyal reader here, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Shh, don’t tell anyone else. Promise?
Ok.
I’m scared of donuts.
I know, it doesn’t really make much sense. “Donuts kill far less people than sharks, on average” you say, trying to convince me not to be scared of them.
It doesn’t work.
I don’t have any kind of meaningful response (I might give you an “urble murfburger,” though) but that doesn’t mean that my fear of donuts isn’t valid. You should support me through my donutphobia and be waiting for me on the other side. Preferably without donuts. I may be technically “cured” but that’s no reason to be playing with fire, or with donuts.
Both fire and donuts would be bad things to play with, is what I’m trying to tell you here.
If you think you understand my donutphobia, you may add a comment below. If you don’t understand and are merely interested in calling me a “donut hater” or “doughnut weirdo” (complete with funky alternate spelling), then you should go find some other spot on the Internet to hang out. This Internet spot may not be for you any more.
I’m sorry to go that far, but if your aggressive donut stance is all that you have to offer, then this may not be your kind of web site.
And that’s that.