Anatomy of a Bo*Berry Biscuit

Someone mentioned Bojangles the other day.

Then I couldn't stop thinking about a Bo*Berry bith-cuit. So, I got one today.

Actually, I got two.
And an egg & cheese bith-cuit which I ate immediately in the car because my 60 calorie yogurt and the banana I had 2 1/2 hours earlier weren't sustaining me.

All for the sake of documentation. The things I do for you people.
Sheesh.
Please feel free to sing my praises to all you know.

I think I've mentioned before how fond the ladies of the South are of terms of endearment. I pull up to the window and this woman says, "Hey, honey! How're ya doin' today?" I'm a friendly gal, so I respond politely. (My polite is usually other people's enthusiastic FYI.) "OK, sug, you just sit tight I'll have that food right out for you." "Here you are, hun, have a great day!"

Terms of endearment: I'd really only use them for small children, significant others and my potential future children. Here, they apply to anyone and everyone who is alive or dead.

Back to bith-cuits.

I'm sorry, do you like a little icing? Because these are iced blueberry biscuits. Warm, buttery blueberry biscuits drenched in icing.

Yeah, kinda like that.

I recommend milk or coffee. But not coffee from Bojangles. Their coffee is bad.

See how yummy and moist and decadent they look?

That's what $1.49 can get you.

Biscuits and a side of guilt.
Sweet, delicious, I-promise-to-walk-an-extra-mile, guilt.