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.

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