This afternoon, I was reflecting on how epic it was that I had a hot dog for lunch three seperate days in a week’s time…epic in the sense that I want to die before having to worry about retirement.  I tried out River Dogs twice and had the Chuck Norris at Longboards.  It seemed even better that on the one day I didn’t eat a hot dog, I had a work function at the Argosy and destroyed a casino buffet. I also went up to Pizza Man for dinner last Friday with the family and enjoyed their awesome Chicago Dog.  That’s four days in seven.

Then I thought, “I went to the Royals game last night and had a hot dog there.”  I’m not sure how I survived eating at a casino and a baseball stadium in the same day.  I always get a hot dog at the game though, and we also went to the game on Saturday…that’s six hot dogs in seven days.

Last Sunday, I didn’t eat anything due to being lazy in the morning and playing volleyball all afternoon.  We eventually headed to my brother’s house and had a lovely dinner.  Upon arriving home, I was still a bit hungry and was going to make a sandwich…was going to until I saw the package of chili cheese sausages I had forgotten about.

It’s like when you win at Connect Four without even realizing it.  Except with hot dogs.  And seven of them.  This might explain why that one fart this afternoon was about 7 seconds long and sounded like the door opening in the intro to Tales From The Crypt.