Hot Slut Of The Day!

November 16, 2012 / Posted by:

To quote the completely sane political performance artist Victoria Jackson: America is dead. RIP America. I can’t stop crying!

That howling sound you heard outside of your bedroom window early this morning was Mama June and Honey Boo Boo Chile wailing and screaming over the loss of an American treasure: HOSTESS! Diabetes rates will drop, but hearts will break.

I will never EVER see the words “Hostess” and “Sno-Balls” together on the same package again, because Hostess is dead. Goodnight sweet, processed, delicious prince. I’ll always remember the times I motorboated you, because you looked like two glorious chocolate chichis covered in pink carpet. I was happy to munch on your carpet. Hostess gave me my first Sno-Ball experience and now they’re gone forever! Hold me closer, Little Debbie.

After 82 years of injecting the hearts of Amurca with corn syrup, Hostess announced this morning that they are filing for bankruptcy and selling all of the sugar-coated jewels in their vault. Hostess was in danger for a while, girl, but they’re blaming their death on a recent labor strike. One of the company’s biggest unions went on strike a week ago and Hostess told them that if they didn’t put down their signs and go back to work, they’d have to kill Captain Cupcake. The union workers didn’t stop striking, so Hostess is locking up their doors. They said that they can’t survive through a strike. The company’s CEO issued this statement of words to The New York Times:

“We deeply regret the necessity of today’s decision, but we do not have the financial resources to weather an extended nationwide strike.”

Hostess has asked the court to let them liquidate all their assets and lay off 18,500 employees. This isn’t totally the end for my precious Sno-Balls, Twinkies, Ding Dongs, Fruit Pies and Wonder Bread. Little Debbie and Bimbo the Bear are sashaying over to the Hostess factory with bags full of money in their hands, because Hostess is selling off their beloved recipes to the highest bidder. Yes, Wonder Bread is in danger of dying too! Now what is your mom going to serve with sketti at dinner? Dinner isn’t the same without your mom throwing a bag of Wonder Bread on the table. 

Before you run off to the food auction to wrestle Mama June for the last box of Zingers (Note: DAMN! Now Hostess Twinkies are going to be the Rothkos of the food auction world), let’s squeeze a Twinkie and pour out some whipped corn syrup cream for Hostess. We will never forget (mostly because our daily insulin shots won’t let us).

And now let’s end this memorial with a beautiful and touching hymn:

RIP HOSTESS!

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