Poor Man's War Criminal: Combos

A few weeks back I made what can only be described as one of the worst decisions of my entire life, and Lordy I've made a few. I purchased a bag of motherfucking Combos. What was I thinking? I was in a gas station, I was hungry and quite frankly, I panicked. For some reason I was under the assumption that I used to like them a long time ago.

It wasn't until I bit into the first one that I realized it was quite the opposite. I used to hate them, and like a 'Nam flashback, that first bite brought all the bad memories flushing back.

Oh sweet Jesus, come save me.

Combos have the appearance of a doggie treat and I have to imagine that 9/10 folks would prefer the doggie treat in a blind taste test. The pretzel ones are especially horrid and get the old gag reflex working like a shot of store brand tequila. I'm almost positive that what is on the inside doesn't qualify as anything even close to cheese and wouldn't pass FDA inspection.

After doing a little research on their official site, we learn that Combos is a longtime sponsor of NASCAR, their slogan is 'A Meal That's Not a Meal' (what the fuck does that even mean?) and that they're trying to market it as 'real man's snack'. Dammit Combos! They're clearly pandering to the uneducated and morbidly obese. This shall not stand.

So join me America, in saying No to Combos and Yes to Life!

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