Yes, the universe doles out its punishments for all of us eventually. Unfortunately, celestial due process is a pain in the ass. Finally, Hostess is no more. The Ding Dongs that I consumed as a young, prepubescent child will destroy no more lives.
Allow me to take you back to a time when all types processed food was consumed merrily in plentiful amounts without any consideration for consequences. It was the early 80's and Lil Jason, or more truthfully, Big Jay as I was called in my neighborhood - because there were three Jasons on my street (Jason was a popular name in the early 70's) - was FAT, FAT, FAT. As I tell people, every class has a fat kid and that kid was me.
I was a skinny boy until about the fifth grade and continued to balloon throughout junior high and peaked in the eighth grade. Yes, right about the time when young boys and girls start to figure out the meaning physical attraction and sexual desire, I was a hideous beast. Sadly, because these formative years were so detrimental to my psyche, I have always seen myself as that fat kid. And all the girls I had crushes on who stepped on my chubby heart STILL haunt my dreams.
Note: I lost a ton of weight in high school and eventually became quite the looker heading into college, thank God. However, my self-esteem never fully recovered from those torturous fat years. I know what life is like for overweight people and I would not wish it on my worst enemy.
My point: Ding Dongs are to blame! Those delicious motherfuckers. My mom (who I'll blame later in life) always had Ding Dongs stocked in our kitchen. And Big Jay knew his way around a Ding Dong like Yoda pulling X-Wings out of a swamps in Dagobah.
Hostess announced it is closing today. Finally, under all that weight of bad fat boy karma, the manufacturers of heart ache and pain will cease to exist. Burn in Hell, Hostess.
Which reminds me - I have a coupon for some free chocolate covered Donettes I need to use!