There’s been a lot of talk in the news lately about weiners. I mean wieners. Y’know – a red hot, nitrate stick, tube steak, frankfurter… a weiner, or wiener. It’s spelled both ways and means the same thing – hot dog!
Everybody likes ‘em, especially New York City. They’ve got the biggest one. Not officially of course, because I live in L.A. and I can tell you we’ve got some big ones right here. But New York has involuntarily been linked to the biggest and best Weiner ever. So all this wiener talk made me think about the last time that I had my hands on my own frank, and that made me go out and get all the fixings for a solo night of man-sized dog wrangling, which I really wasn’t going to share but…oh, well.
And just as I got started I got a text from this chick I know and she asked what I was doing. I told her what I had in mind but she didn’t believe me.
“Send a picture of it” she texted.
It sounded a little weird but I thought, “What the hell?”
“WOW” she texted back. “Is that all yours?”
I told her yeah, it was mine but it was a little deceiving because I’ve got really small hands and I asked her if she wanted to come by and try it for herself and believe it or not, 20 minutes later she was all over it.
Anyway, this isn’t anything special (I mean it’s no footlong), but it seemed to push her buttons, so I thought I’d share it with you. Just, uh…promise you won’t tell anybody that it’s mine.
Katt’s Cheesy Wiener
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