Thu Apr 17, 2008 1:07 pm
The first evidence of my BAGHOLE obsession manifested early in my childhood, on Sundays, when my parents brought home a box of BAGHOLES. The sight of that pink, orange and white BAGHOLE would send my heart aflutter. I had an instantaneous, visceral reaction to the sight of BAGHOLES. I couldn’t think straight. I went into conniptions. Each second from the time I saw that magic BAGHOLE float through the doorway until I held the first BAGHOLE in my hand was an eon. All I could think of was the heavenly mixture of pillow-soft and sweet BAGHOLES. Hurry up, Mom. Let’s eat!
