On an escapade of incongruous inconsistencies, I couldn't help but notice the Vegan Donuts! sign. What's this, you little player placater winking sparkly-eyed at my inner beer-bellied eight year old self? Asidely, I looked like an emaciated, doe-eyed African child in the suburbs of 85028. Though I was also caucasian as a child, if you can wrap your noggin around that little factoid.
So I ventured a vulture's wing span and hopped a frog over to Conspire to save my very life. My. Very. Life.
I died when the Vegan Donuts were gone for the day. I RESURRECTED with Mary in cave three days later when I bought their chocolate chip and peanut butter veganookies. They're like cookies, only you have sex on the bottom of them and eat the top when you're done. SO good.
I veganed out my sugary coconut latte thingymobobber and felt inherently morally and cosmically justified when I took it to 905 and didn't buy any of their evil beverages.
I love this place. FIVE Star make-out session with the doorknob when they're closed.