Just one quick trip to 7-Eleven and the damage was done. Somehow a late night desire for something sweet turned into a junk food binge for four food-loving friends. In a quest to please their ladies, the fellas bought all that Hostess had to offer. Regardless of potentially numbed palates from earlier revelry, it all tasted bad. Or rather, it didn’t taste like anything at all. Except sugar. Why does my memory hold Twinkies and white curlycue cupcakes in such high regard? I was so confused by my present day dislike that the next morning I tried another bite, winced and turned away. Tried yet ANOTHER bite, winced and then threw it all in the trash with enough force to qualify as a slight tantrum.
ADVICE: Let Hostess live safely in your memory. Avoid late night 7-11 excursions.