The End Is Nigh.

The Last Supper.

Oh, Twinkie with your golden hue

You have delicious goop in you.

There you are! Were you waiting long,

Between Sno-balls and stale Ding Dong?

My friends all think I’m kinda kinky
Cause my role model is a twinkie.

But they don’t know what we’ve been through.

Dear Twinkie, I can count on you. I tell my troubles as I bite.

You never tell me, “That’s not right.”
You listen to each foolish fear,

Then slowly, deliciously disappear.

I hold you close when we’re alone

And think the thoughts that are my own.

Then turn to you, my dear sweet yummie.

You clear my mind

tickle my tummie.

Your outside is a little plain

But inside you are “mellow lane.”

I like you better than these folks,

Who look at me and then make jokes.

People should be more like you.

You don’t judge the things folks do.

Inside is where your beauty lies.

Within the plain, there’s sweet surprise.

—Grandpa Tucker
Copyright ©1997 by Bob Tucker

Hand me a Twinkie – and a tissue. The end is near. I’ll admit. I haven’t eaten a Twinkie in years but I’d like too someday. Sadly that day may never come because Hostess is in bankruptcy, American tastes have changed and the doorbell on Ding-dongs has rung. Every sponge cake has its time – and now that time has come. Man. I can’t even enjoy a fruit pie without the shit hitting the fan.

Indeed the day of the apocalypse is nearing. Locusts will ride on Twinkie wings – and horseman will pelt us all with Donettes. When Jesus returns, he’ll be bringing all the Ho-Ho’s with him. Yeah. I said it. We’ll all have to line up at the pearly gates and pronounce every single ingredient in a Hostess cupcake. Those who can’t will be forced to eat plain tofu for the rest of eternity. I’m kidding. I love tofu.

The hipster-brewing company, Pabst Blue Ribbon may ride down on angel wings and purchase the brand. Personally nothing goes down better with a cold one like some fake vanilla frosting. Yum.

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