Death of a Legend

The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from being repeatedly poked in the belly.  He was 71.
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 Twinkie, and Captain Crunch.  The grave site was piled high with flours.
Aunt Jemima delivered the euology and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded.  Born and bread in Minnesota, 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 lived to be a crusty old man and was considered a roll model for millions.
Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, three children: John Dough, Jane Dough, and Dosey Dough, plus they had one in the oven.  He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.
The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

I suppose everyone in the world has read this before but it was new to me and I laughed till I cried.  Apparently I have a broad sense of humor.
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