Posted by tonianne at cdm-208-144-250-vctr.cox-internet.com on February 09, 2003 at 23:05:15:
In response to:
Posted by Young Nasty Man at dhcp024-208-211-069.indy.rr.com on February 09, 2003 at 22:32:16:
Did your grandfather invent the Twizzler? If not, where did your love for overrated candy come from? Did you have your first orgasmic experience as a result of Twizzlers?
And most importantly, did you ever bite the ends off of a Twizzler and use its hollow shell for a straw?
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Sadly, my grandfather did not invent the Twizzler. That would have been something to write home about though. Having a grandfather who invented such an awe-inspiring thing.
My first orgasmic experience did not include Twizzlers, and to think such a think, is rather grotesque. Biting the ends off of a Twizzler and using it was a straw is just one of the many perks that they can provide. Only true Twizzler lovers can appreciate this action.
My love for Twizzlers started in a land far away, often referred to as Toni-Toni Land, where the Twizzlers come in every lunch box, every deli, every store, and every household. Everyone loves Twizzlers. The unique taste that makes the mouth salivate when the hardened candy runs along your tongue is unfathomable. Nothing could ever replace it.
I can remember so clearly, the night I saw the light. I was quietly sitting at a movie theater, watching the most horrible movie I have ever seen. It was such a disgrace that I had to leave the atrocious film, my brow furled, and entertaining thoughts of killing the ticket taker.
After I got over that notion, and passed the candy case. M&M’s, Junior Mints, and other various candies spoke quietly to me, but I am strong willed, and I managed to ignore their taunts. The Twizzler however, jumped out of the case, and stopped my in my tracks. Tiny Twizzler hands pushed against my shoulder, as the Twizzler glared towards me.
“How dare you pass a Twizzler, and not think that we rule. For this, you will be punished.”
Now this scary thought was more than enough to make me shake in my ten-dollar Payless shoes. I was horrified. So, instead of receiving some sort of punishment, I decided to bargain with the Twizzler, and play my Toni Mind Tricks.
“What is I praised the Twizzler, day in and day out. What if I showed everyone the light… the sheer ecstasy of the Twizzler? Then, could I be spared?” This I said in a weak voice, hoping that my mind tricks would get the better of the Twizzler.
I should have known though, that the Twizzler mind is very strong, and cannot be toyed with. The Twizzler, not evidently completely pissed off, decided to punish me instead.
After a few hours of intense Twizzler torture, which included consuming various types and shapes of Twizzlers, I was named the Twizzler slave. My duties included plugging the product 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The time I was to serve, was ever mentioned, it was just assumed I would do this, until I was worthy enough to stop.
During the next few years, I was promoted at various times. Once I was a Twizzler President, I was then eligible to be a candidate for the Twizzler God/Goddess position. This is a very highly revered position, and after a few years of worshipping Twizzlers, I had decided this would be my path.
After the preliminary elections were over, and finally the closing election, I was elected to be the Twizzler Goddess.
And this, my curious friend, is how I came to love the Twizzlers.
-Toni, the Twizzler Goddess.
p.s. Of course Twizzlers still fucking rule.