Pages

Bunglin' Bundy

Bunglin' Bundy
Hail the King of Mediocrity!

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Hot Dog In The Morning




Breakfast food is just so mundane. Eggs. Bacon. Pancakes. Porkroll.  I like that stuff only when served in a restaurant. With a Mimosa. By somebody who is not me. I am not standing in front of the stove and cooking those items for myself. Cooking always leads to cleaning up and cleaning up leads to washing dishes and washing dishes leads to drying dishes and...you know the drill.




My favorite breakfast food is one that can be purchased, fully prepared, over the counter at the WaWa or Subway or some other very convenient convenience store. But my very favorite "on the go" breakfast is a hot dog. With onions and mustard and relish. At 8 o'clock in the morning!! From my local WaWa.



What the heck is WaWa, you say?? 




Two things keep me from enjoying a frequent hot dog breakfast: 1) Not all WaWa's have their hot dogs grilling that early in the morning and 2) the little "situation" I have with high cholesterol.

So...the eggs and bacon and pancakes, etc. are pretty much off limits for me these days. And who cares? I have had a lifetime of those things. But, can one ever get enough of hot dogs in the morning? I feel so bereft in the absence of my beloved doggies and their accompanying condiments.

In fact, all of my fav breakfast foods are off limits. No Tuna Subs. No pizza. No Chocolate ice cream with chocolate sprinkles. No Philly Cheesesteaks. Add to that the no smoking rule my lungs have imposed upon me and the result is pretty bleak. I am forced to believe the old adage that everything I love is either illegal, immoral or fattening. 

(Sometimes all three at once) 




But that was not my predominant thought at the beginning of this tirade. I was focusing on breakfast hot dogs. Hot and juicy and riotously tasty. And just bad on every level of the food pyramid.  In fact, so bad that I should be embarrassed to admit that I am so enamored of them. Not. I sing their praises! I worship the ground they sizzle on. I drool at the thought of them. I fantasize taking a slow, savoring bite and swallowing with relish. Or just mustard. Whatever.


Give me hot dogs or give me death. Um, wait. Death is the reason I am avoiding my beloved hot dogs to begin with so...I guess this is goodbye, my sweet. Parting is not a "sweet" sorrow. It's just a sorrow. 


No comments:

Post a Comment