Being a gay man, it should come as no secret that I enjoy putting things in my mouth that promise a creamy white filling.

That’s why when a promise of said filling flooding my Gustatory and olfactory cells resulting in a taste bud orgasm is not fulfilled, I get a tad bit pissy.

Case in point:

Please note the obvious selling point in the second picture: a creamy white milk filling. I saw that and it was over, people. If there’s anything I love more than putting a bear in my mouth, it’s having that bear deposit his secret white load in me. Before I knew what I was doing, I had a box in my hand and was standing in the check-out, dietary guidelines and my goal of reaching my fighting weight by my birthday thrown to the wind.

Racing home, I turned on UGLY BETTY — the wedding episode! — and ripped open the box in a frenzy, eager to lose myself in a sinfully orgasmic melange of camp, cake, and cream filling. As Wilhemenia prepared for her big day, I bit into the first cake, closing my eyes and awaiting the explosion of flavor.

Which didn’t cum come.

I opened my eyes and looked at the cake. What the fuck? There was no delicious cream filling in there. And the cake was kind of dried out — like a nasty ass Twinkie.

I threw the remaining cake in the garbage, tore open another cake and bit inside.

Nothing. Oh hells to the no…

I grabbed the box. There was clearly a white cream filling promised. I rubbed my eyes. It was still there.

I tore open another and broke that sucker in thirds. Nothing. A fourth cake also failed to produce the desired results.

Mother of God — I had been swindled! My own base desires for calorie laden, artery slamming cream filled cakes had allowed me to be taken for a ride and ruined my UGLY BETTY wedding episode experience.

With one cake remaining, I decided to do an autopsy. I carefully removed the tiny creature from his foil pouch and using a butcher knife, split the little bastard from head to toe:

Know what I discovered?

No creamy white filling. Just 2 small pockets of semi-moist cake hidden inside of the Twinkie-esque dried out sponge cake exterior. (And may the jury be instructed that I loathe…L-O-A-T-H-E…Twinkies.)

I felt so robbed — $1.50 gone…just like that.

You took my money and you took my heart, Lulu Bear.

Shame on you.