This box of delight was on sale at Ralphs today. (Marked at $3.79, rang up at $2.50.) The official Hostess site doesn’t seem to acknowledge its existence, so I had to take my own picture. I think it should be the Official Snack Cake of this trip.
You know, if it turns out that real baseballs have a vanilla cream center these days, it might explain a lot of things.
Jason: There’s a Hostess thrift store not too far away in Burbank. (Well, it’s probably too far away for the Chicago folks.) I should see if I can find some Baseballs there. Last time I went, I brought home a box of Chocodiles.
Levi: Wow, Hug. I hadn’t thought about Chocodiles in years.
Jim, this is like when Maggie found a stash of John Kruk folders at a dollar store: Your duty is to buy all the boxes of these that you can, then pack them in your luggage.
Steve: Levi, in case you haven’t noticed the girth of your fellow midwesterners, its not like these are hard to find.
I vote that Jim packs nothing but Hostess in his luggage and if he wants a change of clothes must go to the local thrift store for an outfit featuring the logo of home team in the town you are currently visiting. And thanks for mentioning John Kruk.
Jim: Official TSA policy: “Avoid packing food and drink items in checked baggage.” Sorry.
thatbob: Nonsense, Jim. You can (1) “avoid” packing the Hostess Baseballs in your checked luggage all day – all weekend, even! – and then, at the last minute, pack them anyway. (This is what I would do). Or you can (2) pack the maximum limit of carry-on with Hostess Baseballs, and not check any luggage. (This is what you should do.)
No excuses! No regrets!
Jason: Or, you could ship a case or 2 to Levi, and then pick them up from him and carry them in your rental car.
Steve: I think we are distilling this down to its essential meaning…
Jim is not allowed to pack any luggage for this trip unless it is filled with hostess baseballs and his diet for the entire trip must consist entirely of hostess baseballs. Now that would be a cool documentary!!
Levi: And _I’ve_ distilled Steve’s post to its essence: Steve loves to see people barf out car windows.