An ode to the Twinkie:
Gluttony pays:
by: Kilgore Trosky Trout

    (This book is available on Amazon. Please borrow it or buy it so I can live the America dream.)

 http://www.amazon.com/An-ode-Twinkie-Gluttony-ebook/dp/B007WZHVE4


Did you ever eat a Twinkie? Your time may be running
out for such a sin. Sadly,the company is in chapter eleven,
bankrupt, but in the old days of the 1960s the company was
the leader in providing you cakes that were gooey junk food
pieces of heaven. At that time, they also, were not deemed
evil, as nobody really considered this type of junk food bad
for you; with the exclusion of a few health nuts, that lived on
bird food in California, there were no warnings. Instead, these
snacks were considered a marvel of technology, a cake
created by manufacturing that let the working class get a
version of a cream puff.
Maybe, Marie Antoinette would have turned up her nose,
but as a kid, we thought it was a pure culinary delight, a work
of genius on the level of a creation by Steve Jobs' designers.
Unlike computer products, a Twinkie from the 1960s is still
good, but that high-priced Mac from the 1980s is now a fish
tank.
Science has proven those Twinkies will last forever with
all their preservatives, but your current Iphone or Ipad is
already obsolete and can't help you survive unless you can
turn it into an Ipocket and eat it.
Maybe it was better in the 1960's. YOU SEE! Twinkies
were made in America, your Iphone, Ipad is not. Ironically,
those hipster products are made in Commie China. So, when
you are standing in line at four in the morning in front of the
Apple store think about the ramifications of supporting the
Communist Chinese government. Before, you plunk down
your hard earned dollars on a electronic status symbol.
Think. Now, instead go to the Seven-Eleven and buy a
Twinkie and a cup of coffee and see if that old Iphone or Ipad
still works. Waste not, want not. Plus, you didn't kick a
Korean war vet or Vietnam Vet in the crouch by supporting
the Chinese communist government.
OK. Sorry about the rant. Now for those writing their thesis
on economics. Just think of the ramifications of the Twinkies
being the canary in the coal mine about America's economic
health. It is telling you that America needs to keep on
building factories, hopefully building something not so
dangerous, as junk food.
But for god's sake, we do need factories.
Yes, my friend, the Twinkie is astounding and highly
overlooked product of the modern age.
It could be Twinkies were a long missed economic
indicator? You think Milton Friedman would have picked that
up at the University of Chicago, instead of believing in
Trickle down economics, or maybe he would have just
laughed at the Laufer curve. While his brilliant mind
pondered that greed is good; he should have tossed down a
Sno-ball with a cup of Joe and said: “only give the rich a tax
break if they actually build a business in America.”
Well, they do call Economics the dismal science.
However, if Milton had been charting the sales of the
Twinkie, he might have had a theory that actually worked.
Bingo, my friend. Yes you! My stressed out indebted
consumer: The Twinkie tells you a key indicator to the health
of America's GDP.
It was during the time when Americans were shoveling in
junk food into their pie holes, that we also had the America of
manufacturing, jobs, big cars, starter homes, unions and a
feeling of optimism. Most of us never considered that the
food that was being sold to kids was dangerous and addictive.

Excerpts for Promoting Wily Geist, Kilgore Trout, Paul Brazil and whoever shows me the money.

Before the Internet, before Twitter or Face-book there was the brag letter!
Yes, even before there were bloviators on cable TV, there was the brag letter!

The infamous brag letter origins may go back to the first caveman scrawling a picture
of a mastodon that he killed in that cave in France, to annoy his neighboring cave
dweller to the fact that his scrawny rabbit just doesn't cut it However, for my
family in our boring cottage cheese style life in the mid-west; we were clueless
about the innate ability of humans to brag in graphic forms.
Now, my glug trip is taking hold... The fever, the flashes the brilliant colors of
drunken Christmas now take hold.

 WILY AND PAT'S BIG
ADVENTURE:

 My travels with Pat Buchanan and his philosophies on
life.
By: Wily Geist

  Excerpts:  ebook available on amazon. (Please purchase so I can take my cat to the Vet and get
  my Mother a needed xray on her back


It was our time cruising to Vegas, in Pat's car, a rare collectible, a Mercedes from the
third Reich, that makes me feel alive and help me get through my shallow sidekick life
on TV. Pat was like a guru of how life really work not the usually bullshit they feed in
corporate meetings or conferences. Have you had to sit through one those dumb
meetings where nothing ever gets done. Now, I feel alive again as Pat start espousing his
theories on life and profits. Yes, the American dream.
Pat is now explaining how to blow out the cobwebs and dust bunnies of my boring
beige life. To quote the master:
“Without, evil you can't see goodness.
Without pain, no rating scale for pleasure.”

Pat now guns the twelve cylinder monster, and adjusted the newly installed Bang and
Olfusen Mp3 player to play his Vegas road tunes. “Holy Crap! The music is FRIGGIN
LOUD and it's the STONES and Mick is wailing their ode to the DEVIL.
“PLEASE LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF.
I AM A MAN OF WEALTH AND MEANS.”
Pat chuckles as he says “That could be Mitt's campaign song, or even that loser
Newt's almost campaign song.”
Pat now takes out a solid gold cigarette case, and pulls out two cigarette's.
“Here kid, try one of my Buchanan Bombers.”
I was shocked, as smoking is so unhip. “I don't smoke, Pat, but thanks.”
“IT'S not tobacco !
It's from my Pot farm in Mexico.
My stuff is grown to help fund the CIA Black Ops, so it's all good, in the hood.”
Pat is laughing, as he takes a big toke on his bomber.

WILY AND PAT'S BIG
ADVENTURE:
My travels with Pat Buchanan and his philosophies on life.

Chapter one: Meeting the Great Man.
It was after a night of heavy drinking and snorting cocaine with Pat Buchanan, when
I stumbled home feeling all the shame of one Anthony Weiner.
Damn, I am married with two kids. What was I thinking? Then it hit me: Pat is a part of
history and deep thinking. When you are with a man of greatness and historical
significance; which one of you could turn down the offer of wisdom? Even though the
night led into a debauchery unimagined by his button downed flag waving, Jesus loving
cohorts.
Would you turn down a night, to be at the foot of the master who promised both wealth
and guidance?
Now would you?
Kids, you can keep your high-priced University and balloon payments on your
college loan. It was a crazy road trip to Vegas with Pat that changed my life. Like a LSD
trip, it is all coming back to me, as I see Pat in that 1930's convertible, Hitler's own
person touring car. The dark blue Mercedes was parked out behind a dumpster near the
rear entrance to Msnbc studio. We both ran like manics out the back door after a hellish
morning with Mike Barnicle. We were now heading straight into the savage heart of the
American dream, escaping out the back door of the studio, like the Beatles in a Hard
day's night.
The end of chapter and now for the road trip into the disappearing American dream....

http://www.amazon.com/gp/new-releases/books/4473#2

Readers check out this book by Paul D Brazil:   Still reading Brit Grit that captures the seedy side of the UK with humor and darkness like Hunter Thompson and Hitchcock.

  Going to buy this one next.
http://www.amazon.com/13-Shots-of-Noir-ebook/dp/B006AG3H6M/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1328391823&sr=1-1

Hey, check out my latest story on amazon!   http://www.amazon.com/Mouse-Human-Brain-ebook/dp/B0074O2O9U/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1328391681&sr=8-4