Brewster Rockit by Tim Rickard for September 02, 2013

Wait, hole on there lil’ lady…

She’s got ’im there.

You have no icing!

“Men like you are a dime a dozen”.

Donut forsake me oh my darlin’

You made that promise as a bride

Donut forsake me oh my darlin’

Although you’re grievin, donut think of leavenin

You’ll leave me empty inside

In an argument, she can dance rings around him.

Maybe he’ll fry music…..

“Honey ♫ honey…. oooh, sugar sugar….” ♪

>br>"Doughnut forsake ♫ ♫ me, ♪ oh my darling..♪."

I agree with Cap’n Dunsel She’s leaving him for a donut hole—He fills her in ways her husband can’t

His money is sweeter. I’m tired of your sourdough.

I hope this doesn’t sound racist, but all these doughnut people look the same to me.

Can’t blame her for leavin’ . . all the kids look like cheery Os . . . ☻

She just found out his father was a bagel. (Now that’s racist!)

“Yes, Dunkin, I’m leaving you. I love another. I love Mel.. Mel O’Creme.”

I’m in a chorus. Icing.

Glazed and confused.

Fine, leave me you cheap ’ho(le).

I found a croissant who does wonders for me…

You keep leaving sprinkles on the toilet seat . . .

Any excuse she would tell him would be full of holes. That’s why she has a glazed look on her face.