So I was sitting at the lunch table with two people eating corn dogs. As we proceeded to watch their antics of devourment, I pondered the concept of corn dogs. I came to a conclusion.
"Barbarians." I commented in an offhanded way.
They stopped mid-dog.
"Whaaat?" they replied in utter astonishment, looking at one another, at their corn dogs, and at their corn dogs again.
I deigned to digress, "Isn't there something barbaric about putting a dead animal on a stick and eating it?"
One of them was quick to admonish me, "Ok, first of all this isn't a dead animal. This is a hot dog."
Everyone laughed. And we plunged into a vigorous conversation including the first corn dog, how corn dogs were made, whether or not there was such a thing as "free-range" hot dogs, or "hot dog farms".
The long and short of it was...well, nothing.
And this is the first saga of my quest for the meaning of life.
I don't think it's about corn dogs.
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My Quest for the Meaning of Life
A random assortment of the rare and strange instances occuring in my otherwise very dull life...
Shaman Queen 666
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User Comments: [1] [add]
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I dun think it's about corn dogs either.
It's about brownies.
~Sao