This Krispy Kreme Hot Dog Is Not an April Fools’ Joke, Y’all
April 1, 2015

krispy kreme hot dog I repeat: this Krispy Kreme Hot Dog is not an April Fools’ joke, y’all. It is a cross-promotion between the New Castle Krispy Kreme and the Wilmington Blue Rocks, a minor league baseball team in Wilmington, Delaware. The Krispy Kreme Hot Dog is a hot dog covered in bacon, drizzled with raspberry jam, and served inside a Krispy Kreme doughnut.

It’s “a new chapter in ballpark concessions”, and that chapter is titled “Sweet Jesus.” It’s a reminder that there is no crying in baseball, but there is an ever-present threat of cardiac arrest. It’s a desperate howl from the monster mouth of a national pastime gone awry. The Krispy Kreme Hot Dog is why you’re Shaq fat, America, and it’s why I wish I knew how to quit you: (more…)

Random Thoughts I Had While Watching Sex and the City 2
June 2, 2010

This past Memorial Day, I went to go see Sex and the City 2.  Here are some thoughts (besides “UGH!”) that crossed my mind over the course of the afternoon:

  • This is the actual display sponsored by Skyy vodka in the lobby of the theater where I went to see Sex and the City 2:

  • Let’s be clear on this: here is a vodka selling a movie that’s selling an impossibly “fabulous” nightmare fantasy lifestyle.  Perfect.  The movie hasn’t even begun, and I already wish I was blackout drunk from a shoetini bender.
  • On second thought, I’d rather conserve brain cells (I am going to see Sex and the City 2, after all) and just eat my feelings (impending sense of dread, unfathomable sorrow) instead.  Seeing as it’s Memorial Day, I’m in the mood for hot dogs.  Seriously, federally sanctioned summer holidays always put me in the mood for a hot dog.  Go figure.
  • Oh, and speaking of things that put me in the mood for hot dogs:

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Hot Dogs: The Most Important Component of Independence Day
July 4, 2009

I’m as serious as a hot-dog-binge-induced heart attack, y’all.  Hot dogs, those decadent poor-man’s sausages comprised of animal parts that I refuse to consider because I’d rather not have to ever have to acknowledge that I find processed pig anus to be painfully delicious, are totally where it’s at:

HotDogMustard

Mmmm, I’m already hungry for six of those bad boys.  Maybe it’s the way the ketchup and mustard and pickle relish and onions mingle with the piping hot juiciness of the frank and the doughy goodness of the bun.  Maybe I’m just going into withdrawal as I’ve realized that the wedding I’m going to tonight probably will be too classy to serve hot dogs.  Or perhaps I’ve just lost my damn mind (as usual).  Whatever the cause, right now I want hot dogs like Nomi Malone wants to dance.  And not in the innuendo way.

Don’t even try to fool yourself into believing the hamburger is a more American culinary institution.  There is nothing American about a beef patty that’s named after German city.  Clearly, assuming the hamburger is more inherently American is quite simply anti-hot-dog propaganda.  It’s falsities about frankfurters!  Don’t believe the lies!

Think about it:  All you have to do is put hot dog in one hand and a sparkler in the other and you’ll look like you were born to celebrate July 4th.  People will be like, “Damn, girl, you’s all set to celebrate our independence from British rule the alien invasion!”  Bill Pullman, America’s greatest fake President, knows exactly what I’m talking about:

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