It may not be a cinnamon bun morning today, Mr. RealSNR, but tomorrow it may well be raining a virtual torrent of cinnamon buns. Such is the way of the world.
This day we may bewail the paucity of cinnamon buns, yet the next, we find ourselves up to our ears in cinnamon buns while the icing acts like a viscous stickum adhering our eyes permanently shut and causing our hair to appear as if some perverted baker has ejaculated on our scalp.
We must, therefore, count our blessings and give thanks for our bran muffins.
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