Today I bought a bag of Nutter Butters.
This was an event. It was not the titular event. That would be a pretty shitty event.
But then I opened the bag of Nutter Butters. And as I was eating them, the delicious peanut butter thingies, I discovered something. Someone stacked the cookies wrong around the delicious filling. Now. I'm not a picky man (this is called a lie, but it is necessary for narrative convention and the natural flow of the paragraph). One or two incorrect Nutters, I can understand. But every single goddamn one of these quarter-shaped things was effed up the ay.
Either the robotic arms that have replaced Traditional Old-Fashioned Cookie Assembling in our National Snack Factories need serious recalibrating, or the tiny little fingers of the child slaves who put these things together in a peanut-filled shack in Tijuana need someone to wipe their eyes, because they can't see through the tears of broken dreams and cookie dust and either way it's fucking up my snack.
And that's not what America means to me.
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