I've always wanted to be an Oscar Meyer Wienermobile driver, tooling around the country in an iconic and enormous replica of a tube of processed smoked animal parts. It's a hugely competitive position, with a rigorous series of essay-writing and auditions and feats of strength--sort of a cross between SEAL training and American Idol. I didn't want to go through all that, I just wanted to take the damn dog for a joy ride, preferably ending up in a demolition derby; I'd spray paint "Mad Dog" and "Frank Enstein"and "Wild Wiener" on the sleek, swooped back end, wire up an air horn to the Wiener Whistle, and go bun to bumper.
Turns out I'm not the only one who relishes the idea. A 22-year-old "hotdogger" as the meat-motorhome pilots are called, "mistook" the brake pedal for the gas pedal and rammed that wienie home. You go girl! 
Nice!
Posted by: guy | July 18, 2009 at 11:27 AM