Sometimes a hot dog is just a hot dog, other times, it’s magnificence in a bun. I was really craving one of those Nathan’s style hot dogs, you know the ones I am talking about. A bit greasy, almost burned, the bun liberally soaked with butter and browned, bursting with steam and flavor when you bite into it, with just the right amount of mustard.
Yeah.
That was what $2.36 of heaven tastes like. At that instant, I felt I could have bested Kobayashi in any gastrointestinal feat. Huzzah to your Hot Dogs, O Bill and Bob; you are most certainly gentlemen beyond reproach.
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