Corndogs

Perhaps it is because of the impending holiday season, but I've been thinking about food lately. Yesterday it was pistachios, today it is corndogs. However, while I will gladly consume pistachios, I'm not a big corndog fan. Rumor has it that an esteemed administrator at my fine workplace has a serious penchant for corndogs and Schlitz beer. I'm guessing that he must stockpile the beer, since it isn't produced in volume anymore, but corndogs are freely available.

For those interested in the origins of the corndog, I suggest checking out this blogger's entry on hot dogs. Of course, the halcyon days of the corndog aren't gone, we have a National Corndog Day Festival. I find it strange, however, that the festival does not fall under National Hot Dog Month, but I suppose that these are two different critters. If one is interested in honoring carb-intensive meat products on-a-stick, then
perhaps it would be worthwhile to check out the Corndog Festival. One could listen to some of the best rock albums of the 70s that best accompany a corndog along the way. What would even be cooler would be listening to these tunes as one cruised along in the Weinermobile, though the corn car would probably suffice.

While these festivals are fun, they don't address the need for immediate corndog gratification. That is where a home corndog kit comes in, though results using these are varied. Just use a decent recipe. For best results, I recommend a commercial unit. Otherwise, you may need to fly out to Disneyland to get your fix.

One thing to watch is one's corndog intake. These premium pups are even worse for you than hot dogs. One should not attempt power-eating these guys, though there are worse medical scenarios involving corndogs.

Perhaps, then, our inimitable leader chooses corndogs for their entertainment value. After all, corndogs can be a special friend. Moreover, the corn dog is complex, exhibiting a dark side as well as a need for heroes. Besides, with enough Schlitz beer, I suppose that anyone could find a true friend in a fritterized meat-cicle. And such effusive offerings of kind regard help to lift our University out of the mire of sociopathy into the world of unity. Perhaps Dr. Atkins was wrong after all.