Signs of the Coming Apocalypse, Volume I

Sometimes, after a day of work slash night of drinking, one comes home not really prepared, mentally or chemically, for a grueling 20 minutes (20 minutes! Who has that sort of time!) of watching water boil, adding packaged pasta, and then throwing a jar of "chemically-enhanced" pasta "sauce" on top and calling it a meal. For times like that, our benevolent overlords in corporate America have provided a veritable bounty of frozen entrées that range from almost-fast-food-quality to remarkable substances that, in the event of a nuclear holocaust, could be appropriated as a poor man’s rubber. Even these blessings of preprocessed food entail the remarkable chore of opening the box, ripping open the packaging, scrounging for a clean surface of some sort on which to place our feast, and then a never-ending 5 minutes staring at the microwave, during which time we’re equally likely to fall asleep on the kitchen floor or become engrossed in a simpsons rerun, leaving our largess to be discovered by a scavenging roommate or friendly house insect hours later. For occasions thus, a bachelor on the go turns to that most dependable of meals, toast – any type of ultra-processed enriched bleached and reprocessed grain food, carcinogenicized for thirty second in a toaster and then covered with basically anything found in a jar in the refrigerator that doesn’t move. The nice people at Kraft have decided that this process, which can be done from start to finish during two car commercials and the introduction to The Daily Show, is a burden on the terrible sensibilities of today’s sedentary Americans. Hence: The Bagelfuls.


A bastardized combination of bagel and cream cheese, inspired by the venerable Twinkie®, this mystery of modern chemistry doesn’t even need to be heated, just pulled from the package and devoured, like a jackal chancing across a week-old zebra carcass. The implication that the executives at Kraft believe this will be popular enough to be profitable is once of the greatest indictments of western culture that I have seen in recent times. The best thing is, the damn thing’s not even original – it’s a blatant rip-off of a product that’s been kicking around for at least a few years. Incidentally, the original’s choice of promotion does nothing to assuage my fears that the entire concept of a bagel-twinkie is nothing less than an all-out assault on culture as we know it.

Fucking Awful

3 thoughts on “Signs of the Coming Apocalypse, Volume I”

  1. You popped your Cherry!

    Also, expert use of the “ditriech probably hates this post” tag. Its my favorite

  2. Good fucking show. Learn to center your pictures, and I think we’ve got something here.

    Also, where in God’s filthy kingdom did you find this stuff?

  3. sometimes the series of tubes brings you gold, and sometimes you realize that it’s just a gigantic virtual sewer system and you end up swimming through half the nation’s feces.

    not sure which one this is.

Comments are closed.