Gamers, agoraphobics, college students, lend me your ears!
I come to bury Hot Pockets, not to praise them.
The evil that men eat lives after them;
The good that is oft interred with their appetites;
So let it be with Foodette. The noble Hot Pockets
Hath told you Foodette was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievious fault,
And grievously hath Foodette answer'd it.
Here, under leave of Nestle and the rest-
For Hot Pockets are an honorable food;
So are they all, all honorable foods-
Come I to speak in Foodette's funeral,
She was my friend, faithful and just to me;
But the Hot Pockets say she was ambitious;
And the Hot Pockets are an honorable snack.
She hath brought many groceries home to the refrigerator
Whose nutrients did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Foodette seem ambitious?
When that the hungry have cried,
Foodette hath wept:
Snacks should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet the Hot Pockets say they were delicious;
And Nestle is an honorable man.
You all did see that on the website
I thrice presented her a Kinder Egg,
Which she did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet the Hot Pockets say she was ambitious;
And, sure, they are an honorable snack.
I speak not to disprove what the Hot Pockets spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love her once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then, to mourn for her?
O judgment! thou art fled to freezer burnt favors,
And men have lost their taste.
Bear with me;
My heart is in the freezer there with Foodette,
And I must pause till it come back to me.
Hot Pockets are absolutely gross, dishonorable, and stab people in the back. There. Now you have the equivalent education of someone with an English degree. See how helpful this website can be?
My particular Hot Pocket, that of the pepperoni pizzeria variety, was a hollow shell of a snack, with about 25% of the pepperoni depicted on the box, and none of the cheese. The sauce was slimy and cold, and the gaping maw of the crust, tho' filled with authentic herbs and spices, depicted a shallow dearth from whence there is no return. The taste- Satan's pubes, I dare say! Alas, to die, to sleep; no more- for I now wander the planes of indigestion and stomach pains.
Labels: 1, frozen, lunch, pizza, snack
My particular Hot Pocket, that of the pepperoni pizzeria variety, was a hollow shell of a snack, with about 25% of the pepperoni depicted on the box, and none of the cheese. The sauce was slimy and cold, and the gaping maw of the crust, tho' filled with authentic herbs and spices, depicted a shallow dearth from whence there is no return. The taste- Satan's pubes, I dare say! Alas, to die, to sleep; no more- for I now wander the planes of indigestion and stomach pains.