Aunt Jen Posted May 12, 2015 Share Posted May 12, 2015 Lemme try again: OMG! Double OMG! There I was, stumbling in a stupor. You all know the feeling. Wondering aimlessly in a fog, thoughts not formed well enough to even worry about it: just the feelings of need and worry, past comprehension, the car long forgotten. I stumbled over what was obviously a double duelist---so the saloons must have closed---and hit my head on a wooden doorway of some kind. I don't know what it was, but I think it was a house of I'll repute of some kind owned by a guy---Dennie was it? They rushed me out of there, so I stumbled on my way, like a zombie with no brains to eat, exhausted, not even a thought to form. When all of a sudden, I had this Vision: the most miraculous thing, a full Monty chilidog with cheese and onions---no mustard. I didn't know what to say! I couldn't think! It looked like Hardpan Curmudgen, so I nearly went the other way,,but he was holding the chilidog, beckoning, beckoning. I reached out, and like all chilidog deficient stumblers who are mistaken for zombies, I said, "Aaaaarrrgh...," weakly so. The vision of Hardpan said, "Aaaaaargh" right back, so I took a few steps toward him. He retreated. I stepped some more.... Until, all of a sufden, i found myself in some humane place with a woman standing in front of me, hovering over me---me stretched out on a gurney, with three paramedics slowly putting little bits of chilidog in my mouth. YES, you're right---what you're thinking: I'd followed the vision of the chilidog all the way to DODGER STADIUM, life, and civility. QUESTION I can see why they call them wieners. But why do they call them dogs? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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