And Now For A Post About Hot Dogs

After watching the wiener eating contest on television, my wife told me I was the kind of pussy that could only eat four hot dogs in ten minutes. “Four hot dogs, my ass” I said. “Bring me Nathan’s!”

 Like a proud parent that figured out how to get her anorexic child to eat, my wife happily did just that.

 

It was a clinic in masculinity.  First, I casually plowed through 6 processed-meat-sacks in 3 minutes.  THEN, as if to show my superiority over athletes that can only eat plain hot dogs, I added some kraut to the 7th, put on my gay face, and chewed like a furry faced Joey Chestnut

When that was done I pretended to be mad that there were no more hot dogs and left the table triumphantly.  I tasted nothing but victory.