I was too cowardly to buy and/or eat this.

Sure, the spouse and I both pointed at this box in unison, with the classic "Wait, wait, wait, what?!?" that certain commercial products deserve.

This item in particular is The Most Dada Hot Pocket Ever. It's filled with pasta?!?

I'm happy about this, and part of me wants to eat it, but I'm just too nervous about what an explicit carb-bomb it is.

Sure, I've eaten (and really loved) my friend Jeff's spaghetti sandwiches, and as a teenager I used to just eat slice after slice of bread the way other kids ate potato chips. So it's not like I can really claim the culinary sainthood needed to cop a holier-than-thou position of condescension, when I approach the subject of pasta-filled Hot Pockets.

However, I know that if I ate one, the sodium would cause my body to retain water like... Well, like the whole rest of the Pacific Northwest. (The puddles, mud, ferns, wetlands, ocean, etc.) I would grow creaky in my joints from the severe puffiness, and would lose the ability to comfortably operate an Xbox 360 controller. Now OBVIOUSLY, I can't risk that.

Therefore, the mystery remains a mystery, and the Limited Edition Four Cheese Garlic Pasta Bake Hot Pockets remain as lonely as an unkissed Blarney Stone, at least in my life. I'm sorry, Hot Pockets. I'm sorry I failed you.