For about a week I've been wondering why there's a strange smell of donuts in my car. Last Sunday I bought one of those huge boxes of assorted cream-filled artery-destroying bastards from Krispy Kreme at Selfridges in the Bullring to take home to the ravenous hordes of my two girls, and I haven't been able to shake the smell since. Either it's wishful thinking or it could be that around the same time I topped up my windscreen washers with some heavy duty winter-strength fluid laced with antifreeze. Which probably says a lot about what Krispy Kreme put in their donuts. Still going to eat them, though.