Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

Eat It. It's Good For You.

I was on my way back from court this afternoon and saw the Wonder/Hostess outlet store. Now, normally, I wouldn't have given this a second thought; but just yesterday, I mentioned to Stacey that I had a hankerin' for a Hostess cupcake. Why? I have no clue. I haven't had a Hostess cupcake in decades. It just popped into my mind yesterday ... probably due to a slight stroke or something like that. And there it was, right there on the side of the road, a sign, as M. Shymalanolin Night would like us to believe.

And I saw another sign ... in the window ... boxed treats were three for five bucks. I got a box of Ho-Ho's and a box of Hostess cupcakes and a box of Twinkies. Oh, the power of advertising ... and M. Shymalyanabanana Night ... yes, I had taken the bait. I was like ... there ... absolutely ... there.

The lady at the cash register ... heehee ... charged me $4.78. I had the fiver out. She said it was a special today ... yeah, right ... a special ... 22 cents off. What kind of special is that? She insisted on giving me my 22 cents change. I took it. Like, wow, I'm thinking, that is another sign. This was feeling very right to me, if you know what I mean. Like this was ... a good thing, as Martha used to say.

I figured, though, that I'd wait till I got home to eat one of the Hostess cupcakes ... oh, I was looking forward to the ritual ... you know ... the ritualistic way in which you eat certain things. You know that squiggly white icing thing on the chocolate icing on top of the cupcake. I used to take that off and eat it first, then the chocolate icing. That's the ritual thing ... you can't do that while driving.

I did have the Twinkies, though, that were like just sitting in that box ... and the light was red ... and the box was pretty easy to open ... and the little cellophane wrappers are easy to pull apart with your teeth. And you know, Twinki9es, with that moist yellow cake-like stuff -- it didn't have the white cardboard piece like I remembered. Sometimes, I'd scrape the stickey stuff left on the white cardboardy thing with my finger and eat it first ... the ritual thing ... you just can't like lick that stuff, you have to scrape it off in a little rolled up thing or ball, whatever, with maybe a little of the filling my mother said was "pure lard, that's why I don't buy that crap! Let Kenny's mother fill him up with that crap!" Ah, yes, the memories ... washing over me ...

Fucking guy behind me beeped cuz the light turned green. Just jealous.

I bit into the golden sponge cake with creamy filling. Oh, yeah, you just know this is going to be like the best thing ... Oh ... my ... God!! What the fuck did they do to Twinkies to make them taste so ... so ... different? Oh, man, I am telling you that this was bad. I mean, I don't remember Twinkies tasting like this ... I can't even describe it ... They must have done something to them ... I wish I could check the recipe from back in the day. I had to spit it out ... I'm sorry, but right out the window .... yuck! They're probably bio-degradable now; so, it was okay to do that -- and maybe that's the problem.

Hostess is trying to make this into FOOD. The pesky food scientists have fucked with the recipe to try to make Twinkies healthy. What are they doing? This isn't right ... Twinkies aren't supposed to be food. Who decided that?

That's why they were so good. Because your mom wouldn't let you eat them. They were bad for you ... somehow, I think, Hostess started catering to those moms ... making the Twinkies healthy, to please mom. And along the way, they lost sight of what was important.

Hmmm ... what was important? A good-tasting product? I don't know. Somehow, somewhere, somebody got the idea that they could make more money by catering to the moms ... the moms don't care how the things taste ... and what do the kids know nowadays ... "Eat it, it's good for you," has come not to mean that the kid should eat that slice of liver that's cooked beyond all recognition, even by a shoe repair guy, and those peas, right from the can of the Jolly Green Giant, but should eat that fucking Twinkie ... that foul-tasting, spit-it-out-the-window, unidentifiable-tasting ... thing.

I'm passing on the Hostess cupcakes ... not even going to open the box ... if you want them, let me know where to ship them.

Posted by Bill at June 30, 2004 03:57 PM