Before I go on to other subjects, I need to explain “how we got to the hot dog.”
The reference dates back to way back in the day when I was a wee teeny high school student. I had a creative writing teacher who was begging to be tortured to just before the point of postaling us all away. She was a large, blonde, toadlike woman who enjoyed poems on flowers and stories on women falling in love and having babies!
I don’t like babies.
Or flowers.
I do enjoy a good hot dog now and then.
One afternoon, I caught myself thinking about hot dogs, and I began to ponder how the bloody hell that happened. What preceding thoughts had led to me thinking about those little meaty gems? Much to my teacher’s chagrin, I handed in the resulting linking of random thoughts as an assignment.
So before I go on to other subjects, I have explained the phrase “how we got to the hot dog.” You’ll need it. Today has been a chain of hot dogs.
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