Hot Dog!


As an American person of America, a couple of times a year, I will be in the grocery store and suddenly decide I have to have a hotdog.  There I am, faced with packages of meat tubes.  Their excessively phallic nature immediately calls to my smutty hind brain which responds gleefully


while my responsible conscious shrieks “No, no, stop that.  That is not what is in that wrapper.  All that is in there is some pink thing that has somehow managed to qualify as “Meat,”  and sodium by the bucket, chemicals I can’t even spell, and grief, sorrow and remorse.”  Somehow, the hot dogs wind up as dinner that very evening and now the grief, sorrow, remorse and heartburn have all kicked in.

What is it with these nasty skinlesss sausages?  Isn’t that phrase in itself enough to make one turn aside?  But I remember loving them as a stupid small child, and thus I need to be retaught, a few times annually, that they are to food as Miley Cyrus is to singing.  Anyway, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go knock back the traditional post-hot dog quaff: Alka Seltzer.


Just to make me feel better.  Plop, plop.

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

20 responses »

  1. Why my phone answers your comments and claims to be anonymous is beyond me. Who else would be wasting their time like this? Is my phone ashamed of my blog?


  2. Now that I’m being a good boy and watching what I eat, hot dogs are for me also an annual (or so) treat, mostly these days at The Husband’s company picnic, which was last month. I had three, slathered in chili and onions, and enjoyed every bite. Some culinary traditions require neither excuse nor explanation (even if they do require seltzer, Alka or otherwise).

    The GIF is hypnotizing…


  3. Decades ago, I read a listing of the animal parts that get used in hot dogs and other sausages. Pork snouts. Cow lips. Salivary glands. It’s almost enough to make me a vegetarian.


    • My great grandfather was a butcher, so my family has a long relationship with offal. I love liver, for instance, and steak and kidney pie and sweetbreads. No way I could ever be a vegetarian (apologies to our dear Diane von Austinburg.)


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