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  • RIP Twinkies

     

     

    RIP Lil' Guys!

     

    My heart is heavy as  I report that the Hostess company, perhaps best known for immortal* pastry the Twinkie, is filing for bankruptcy.

    Shit has not been easy for this beloved purveyor of plastic-wrapped delicacies. They just restructured their ish in a bid to come out swinging, but alas, it seems to have been for naught. Prices of flour and labor were cited in the decision to file for chapter 11.

    “Do they make Oatmeal Pies?” said Ted, a guy who works in my building, when asked for comments. Ted is not alone. The time has come for us all to start asking the tough questions.

    That said,  the future of some of our favorite snacks remains unclear, and that has made me – and I’m sure a great many of you – turn to scholarly introspection. In such times, I find the written word to be a real salvo, and as such, I have composed the following which I hope might raise  our collective spirits.

    With Apologies To W.H. Auden

    Stop all the ovens, cut off the Suzy Q’s,
    Prevent the kids from crying with a slap of your shoe,
    Silence the Ho Hos, and with muffled drum
    Bring out the Twinkies, let the mourners come.

    Let the hookers with jet packs fly overhead
    Scribbling on the sky the message ‘Hostess Is Dead’,
    Put crepe bows round the crinkling packages of Donettes,
    Let the golden retrievers drive bright red Corvettes.

    They were my Sno Balls, my Fruit Pies, and also my Zingers,
    My Michael Keatons and my CW’S ‘Ringer‘,
    My breakfast, my lunch, my dinner, my song;
    I thought the trans fats would last for ever: I was wrong.

    The veggies aren’t wanted now: put out every one;
    Pack up all the hamburgers, and dismantle the bun;
    Pour away the coffee and puke up all the ‘real food’.
    For nothing now can ever come to any good.

     

     

    *myth actually – I’m almost as sad to report that Twinkies do NOT never go bad. While I’ve got you down here, let me debunk another Twinkie myth – they are not dyed brown on the bottom to give the illusion of authentic baking – they are authentically baked….bitch. I’m sorry, that was rude, but it felt necessary. Now hold me, I’m fraught.

     

    Source: [Dealbook]

    Photo: [Crossfitbalboa]

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