I drove home from work today on my regular route. No changes, no detours, just a typical drive home. I live in a rather pleasant area. My brothers and I do think it is a bit "ghetto", but try to avoid using that term around our mom. Growing up we loved our home and our neighborhood: lots of kids, a big back yard, trees to climb, cul-de-sacs invented for night games, trampolines, bike rides, sledding, snow ball fights and forts and snow men. Basically, it was your typical suburb- but that was [25] yrs. ago. However, today . . . . well today was different. As I was turning the final corner on the street before I reached my house, there it was. A huge, gigantic, more-than-words-can-describe, hot dog on wheels. It was parked in the driveway of a neighbor. I don't know this neighbor. I know nothing of this neighbor. But sure enough- someone in that house drives a wiener. Someone wakes up in the morning, takes a shower, has a bowel of cheerios and then heads out to their wiener. Can you imagine the jokes? "How's your wiener,?" or "Nice buns," or how about "Pardon me, but do you have any grey poupon?" (A few from my brother) "How many miles to the gallon does your weiner get,?" or "Is that weiner a V6 or V8,?" or maybe "Where do you park your weiner?" - and his favorite - "So . . . where do you sit . . . at the tip?" And, last, but not least, when you cut someone off in traffic and they scream "DICK!" - they're correct!
Works Cited
Bailey, Trisha. "The Weiner Mobile." Web log post. Tirschk. Blogger, 08 Aug. 2005. Web. 09 Apr. 2015. This post was originally published on tirschk, my personal blog. Most of the text has not been changed. I added a few additional items and opted for a new title, but the rest of the article stays true to its original format.
