Seriously, Twinkie Boyz? Who goes bankrupt selling whipped lard to Americans? My theory is, they didn’t actually go bankrupt so much as they mass produced all the world will need to consume for the next seventy years, so they closed shop to save money while sales continue. I’m pretty sure they’re still selling the ones they made back in 1974. Preservatives are a marvel.
But bankrupt? I don’t buy it. Not when you’re selling animal fat tubes two to a pack.
Have you ever tried one wrapped in bacon? It is to die for. Actually, I think that’s what happened to Jimmy Hoffa. Bacon/Twinkie induced heart explosion. There wasn’t enough left of him to identify.
Well, if this turns out to ACTUALLY be the end, then Rest In Peace, Twinkies. The coming zombie apocalypse will not be the same without you.
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Manning the Door
I love holding the bowl on Halloween almost as much as I used to love going from door to door in the night. My high school son decorated with his usual panache using bloody body parts, skulls, snakes, life-like baby dolls, severed heads, giant spiders, tomb stones, strobe lights and a fog machine. I don’t mind leaving that to him. But let me see all the costumes on the wee, and not so wee as they cavort in darkness laughing and running up and down the street calling out; letting the clan know which house has the best loot.
First, I don’t hand out candy. I hold the bowl out and let them choose. So what if some of them fill their grubby paws and pull back 3 or 5 pieces? I won’t be there for the sugar induced meltdown. I just get to see the glee in their eyes as they score the big haul.
Some kids get a bit nervous around the decorations. They can be intimidating. First you’re blinded by fog and strobes. Then, a skull flashes at you from the rockery… and is that a severed hand over by that snake? Where’s the candy? Up those dark steps to the distant door? Only the brave make it that far.
Not to worry. I bring the bowl down for the faint of heart. One little mass murderer (Jason I believe) declined the journey, but he’ll be back next year and try again. One of my favorites was when two brothers came. The young one, dressed like a pirate stomped boldly up and raked in the booty. “My brother’s coming,” he told me. I looked, but the brother was not moving. He stood right next to Mom way down by the street staring up at his young sibling (the meeker one was a ninja). No trouble. I came out to deliver the bowl, following the pirate. “Joey!” yelled the ninja. “There’s a guy! Right BEHIND YOU!” I smiled and held out the bowl as I drew close. He looked up at me and smiled, seeing I was not going to chainsaw anyone. “Dude!” He said in relief as he picked a few pieces from the bowl.
Pirates: 1 Ninjas: 0, if you’re scoring at home.
We moved about 6 bags of cheap American confection in under 3 hours.
First, I don’t hand out candy. I hold the bowl out and let them choose. So what if some of them fill their grubby paws and pull back 3 or 5 pieces? I won’t be there for the sugar induced meltdown. I just get to see the glee in their eyes as they score the big haul.
Some kids get a bit nervous around the decorations. They can be intimidating. First you’re blinded by fog and strobes. Then, a skull flashes at you from the rockery… and is that a severed hand over by that snake? Where’s the candy? Up those dark steps to the distant door? Only the brave make it that far.
Not to worry. I bring the bowl down for the faint of heart. One little mass murderer (Jason I believe) declined the journey, but he’ll be back next year and try again. One of my favorites was when two brothers came. The young one, dressed like a pirate stomped boldly up and raked in the booty. “My brother’s coming,” he told me. I looked, but the brother was not moving. He stood right next to Mom way down by the street staring up at his young sibling (the meeker one was a ninja). No trouble. I came out to deliver the bowl, following the pirate. “Joey!” yelled the ninja. “There’s a guy! Right BEHIND YOU!” I smiled and held out the bowl as I drew close. He looked up at me and smiled, seeing I was not going to chainsaw anyone. “Dude!” He said in relief as he picked a few pieces from the bowl.
Pirates: 1 Ninjas: 0, if you’re scoring at home.
We moved about 6 bags of cheap American confection in under 3 hours.
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