Until today I did not believe in the Mayan apocalypse. But with the demise of the Twinkie I am reconsidering my position.What will hikers and backpackers — looking for a sugar rush — do without them? How can we plod the endless miles of trail without the mirage of those golden, cream-filled torpedoes waiting for us when we stagger into town?
As one hiker said, “If you don’t like Twinkies you ain’t no American.” “God knows they won’t spoil for decades,” said another. Indeed, the ultimate trail and survival food. Some had them in every mail drop from Georgia to Maine.
Alas, now some hoodlums have cases of them sitting behind their computers as they click the keys and hawk them on Ebay, Craigslist, and Amazon for fiendish prices.
Forget mall clashes on Black Friday. Ferocious store fights broke out over these precious delicacies when word came down of the Hostess demise.
Funny how most of us were content with just knowing there were there — on store shelves across the nation, waiting until we got …the urge!
Alas, now hikers everywhere sit collapsed in dark corners amid puddles of tears with…PTTS – Post Traumatic Twinkie Syndrome.
Forget about the zombies…it’s…