How would you describe the experience of eating a Jumbo Iced Honey Bun?

>while eating
Sheer bliss.
>immediately after
suicidal

Fat and diabetic.
Seriously, that's what comes to mind when I eat one of those. Which also explains why I only eat them maybe twice a year, if that.

You look at it lovingly, thinking dis gon' be gud.

Then you bite into it. You feel the plastic flavorless icing glom on to your upper palate. You sense the overly dense, bready bun against your tongue, its flavor slightly sweetened by the minimal amount of HFCS-based glaze that they added to it to make it not totally suck. You chew, and the too-tough "pastry" turns into a paste. Eventually you choke it all down, grab some milk, and try to forget the horror and the shame.

When you grow up and find pastry bakeries that serve actual good-quality products, you look back at your childhood with deep regret.

diabetes inducing

i've never dared

They look so good but then you bite into the overly dry and happiness draining, lame ass icing and you begin to regret spending that 50 cents, knowing your not going to finish this terrible gas station exclusive snack food.

unpleasant

i suck down a jumbo honey bun and a 24 oz sun drop on the drive home prolly 3 or 4 times a week, i nearly doo dooed in my britches when i saw it was almost 1000 calories.

May god have mercy on you and your britches soul

You're on the road to diabetes. Stop.

starch, sugar, fat. imo a slice of bread is rich enough, no need to add all that other stuff to it.

Hope/disappointment, Hope/disappointment, Hope/disappointment, Hope/disappointment, wrapper stuck to your shirt.

You raise up from your cold bunk, thin plastic coated matress crinkling under you as you reach beneath your bunk to pull out your box of commissary. As your deciding between eating the pickle or honeybun, or perhaps living a little and mixing the pickle, hunneybun, and hot Cheetos into a pack of ramen, your cell mate looks over and offers to trade you 5 scoops of tasters choice instant coffee for the pastry. Since the room is always 58 degrees (to keep the violence and germs down) and since the bedsheet they give you provides little warmth, you accept his offer and wonder how you wound up here in the first place. Maybe after lunch you'll write your ex girlfriend another letter she won't respond too. Court dates been delayed another month.

Wonderful. Well done, user. This sums up the Honey Bun experience better than any poet or physicist or astronaut could have ever done. Chaucer would cry if he read these words, so bittersweet they are.

Beetus-ey