I interrupt my regularly scheduled posts on things roughly to do with writing to bring you this announcement: THE LAST TWINKIE IN MY DESK DRAWER.

Behold. THE LAST TWINKIE IN MY DESK DRAWER.

This wonderful product is also THE FIRST TWINKIE IN MY DESK DRAWER, which I had to have as soon as I learned Hostess was going out of business.

Look at it. Admire it. See how wonderfully golden brown THE LAST TWINKIE IN MY DESK DRAWER is. See how it shimmers in its vacuum sealed cellophane wrapper, which keeps it fresh and moist.

Don’t you wish you had it? I will not sell it.

How could I put a price tag on THE LAST TWINKIE IN MY DESK DRAWER? Unless it were an amount equal to the list price of a 2013 Audi A8?

Perhaps I will donate it to charity. A lot of good can be done with THE LAST TWINKIE IN MY DESK DRAWER. However, the night cleaning crew may sense that this magnificent wonder of food engineering is within their grasp and be unable to resist its allure.  It could happen. My desk drawer does not have an electronic combination lock or heat sensors. THE LAST TWINKIE IN MY DESK DRAWER is vulnerable. I must be vigilant.

Back to work now. I hope you enjoyed viewing THE LAST TWINKIE IN MY DESK DRAWER.

P.S. Something else worth beholding? My books. Find them here.