RIP Hostess Twinkies. You and I go way back.

When I was a kid, pounding down those delicious yellow cakes while guzzling Dr Pepper, playing NES to all hours of the night.

In college, after eating a large pizza while watching Monday Night Raw with my friends, your cream-filling awesomeness amplified with Nestle's chocolate milk after those bong hits.

And I rediscovered you after years apart, thanks to Woody Harrelson's holy grail-like search for you in that funny-as-fuck movie Zombieland.

We had a good run, and in all honesty, I never thought I'd outlive you.