It’s a day when I am going to be distracted anyway. There are guys hanging off a scaffold outside my office window all day. It’s 85 degrees and humid as a monkey’s armpit. At the end of the week I will again be chasing light to the west coast, beating a path to what comes next. And so I am very susceptible to Dr. S’ vision of knife-wielding doughnuts. Truly, the Disney track intruded all day with doughnuts behaving in unsusual ways. Doughnuts crouching behind dumpsters, waiting for a mark. Doughnuts tying off before their fix. Doughnuts with wings flying over the Lower East Side projects. Doughnuts exploding like fireworks in the night time sky. All with beatific blissful doughnutty smiles on their icing faces.

So I go to the gym after work, and my friend is late in meeting me. That’s OK, because now I can cartoon those doughnuts. I take out my drawing pad and am doodling all the things you would not want to see a doughnut wielding: a chain saw; a hypodermic needle; a switch blade; a hacksaw. Then I start in on the inappropriate doughnut behavior, hopped up doughnuts, menacing doughnuts. When my friend arrives she asks what I am doing and I start barking with laughter “I’m drawing doughnuts having sex!” Look at my pad, it’s true. An éclair is having it’s way with a cake doughnut, and they are both looking pretty happy.