I received this woeful email, earlier today. After a few tears and a couple of crescent rolls, I felt better. I thought I'd share news of this legend's passing with you.
From Poppin' Fresh Press Syndicate:
The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection, and complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.
Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough, two children, JohnDough and Jane Dough, who has a bun in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, The California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours. Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy, and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded.
Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart "cookie", wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he still, as a crusty old man, was considered a roll model for millions The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.
A great American icon has winged his way to that big breadbasket in the sky. First Julia Child, and now this. What's the world coming to?
I suddenly feel the urge to bake. Blueberry muffins, I believe.
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