It Is Finished.

July is over, and so ends my month of eating hot dogs. I made it to 100 with a ceremonial dog downing at 94/95 with my Leadership Omaha friends (they were there for an event already, I wouldn't have expected that kind of turnout simply to watch me eat a hot dog). Coney Stop provided the final two dogs. Most people simply ask me why I would do something like that, and the answer is always the same. If you have to ask, maybe there isn't a good answer.

Hot dogs are good for you. I lost 4 pounds during Hot Dog Month. They are portable, convenient, and ultimately American. I finally got a "you wouldn't eat hot dogs if you knew what was in them" comment from an overly dramatic girlfriend of a friend of mine. "Really?" I replied, marveling that it had not occured to her that somewhere in my 36 years on this earth I would have figured out what a hot dog was. If I had more guts I would have simply responded, "I guess I never thought about that, what is in hot dogs." Then when she tells me I could stage a violent reaction as though it is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard and throw up on her, apologize, and thank her for educating me. Then I would ask her where chicken nuggets come from. Besides the fact that I cannot throw up on command, there are probably other problems with that response.

Now I turn this blog over to my buddy The Mexican in Atlanta. He has already begun his challenge and he will blog during the month of August. You may recall from the hot dogs across America blog that they like coleslaw down there, and he may add some ethnic twists because of his heritage.

Fight the good fight brother.

Dog on . . .