Whenever I feel like falling off the healthy eating wagon, my absolute favorite junk food snack in the world is Combos.

These things:

They may LOOK like turds wrapped in other, larger turds, but that’s where you would be wrong.

Combos come in either cracker or pretzel shells, but I hate pretzels, so really the only ones that exist to me are the regular ones. They have some sort of flavor on the inside like cheese, pepperoni pizza, chicken cordon bleu, fuckawesome, etc. They are the best shit you could ever want to eat on the road. Also, they are delicious.

My girlfriend-at-the-time Leticia introduced them to me. She had one of those body types where she could eat whatever she wanted, yet still weigh 115 pounds and look like a model. She had some spiel about varying the sizes of her meals throughout the day, but I think it was just genetics.

I stopped to get gas, and she went in and bought some of these.

Me “They look kinda gross.”

Leticia “Try some!”

I immediately fell in love. With the crackers, not her.

Without any remorse, I ate almost her entire bag of Combos by waiting until she wasn’t looking, distracting her, asking for another one, or just fucking taking them.

After they were finished, I went in and bought another bag, shoving several into my mouth before I could even sit back down in the car.

They were ecstatically magical. I could get lost in these little things. The absolute epitome of—

Leticia “Umm… Adam?”

Me “What?”

Leticia “Look down.”

She was pointing down to my jeans. I looked down.

And that’s when I noticed that I had started to become erect. From a snack.

It kept growing, too. It wasn’t one of those little “I felt it move a bit” boners. It was fairly viable. I felt confused, with indeed no arousal whatsoever, and it just kept getting harder.

After a few seconds of us just staring at it, I went back to eating my Combos. Whatever.

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