Say It Ain't So, Adele!

I thought it was a bad dream. But, no, it was real. This morning the radio woke me up to a commercial that broke my heart. Now longtime readers here know my affinity for Cleveland's chocolate paradise--Malley's Chocolates--especially after their Sweetest Day bombshell: bacon, covered in chocolate! Naturally I've been waiting anxiously for what would be up their sleeve come Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, this morning I found out, chocolate-covered Twinkies. What a disappointment. It's tough enough with Lent starting soon, but to wake me up on a cold morning to news of Twinkies covered in chocolate? Torture.

Of course I realize that for about six weeks when you're nine years old, Twinkies are pretty much the definition of perfection, and I realize that given the right coalition of about two dozen various forces, natural and supernatural, a Twinkie might hold some momentary appeal for anyone older than nine, but come on, Twinkies? They're like the Joey Heatherton of snack foods: pleasing to the senses for half a minute or so, then it's like, what? Chocolate-covered Twinkies are like getting someone a present, putting it in a gift bag, then wrapping the whole thing up. Overkill.

And for Valentine's Day? If your loved one gave you a chocolate-covered Twinkie there are but two reactions: 1.) my lover is trying to kill me, or 2.) my lover is passively-aggressively trying to get me to end the relationship. I'd be happier with a bottle of Mr. Clean.

Times are tough, I guess, and I suppose even the great Malley's makes a mistake every now and then. Just keep your chocolate-covered Twinkies away from me, and all will be forgiven. Excuse me while I ring up my old flame, Little Debbie.

Pegboy-Not What I Want