Discovery of the day: Corndog Love
Three hours into my 4.5 hour mission to pick up my (slightly sedated = preternaturally calm) boyfriend from the hospital and get him back home, I found myself in the cafeteria on the ferry staring at what would become my dinner.
Yes, I ate a corndog. And I am not ashamed.
Typically I prefer the hand-dipped artisan corndogs, but those are getting harder and harder to find in these parts, even at the county fairs. But the thawed-and-fried Foster's (motto: Fun on the run!) will do in a pinch.
My colon made me pay for it this morning, but it was worth it.
Corndog. Mustard. Fun on the run, indeed.