Back when I was far more conscious of what I was eating, I referred to hot dogs as "nitrate-filled death tubes." I'm not so hard-core today, and have been known to indulge—with the kids, of course—in the occasional National Hebrew reduced fat beef frank. They taste better than any other hot dog, and I like their slogan: "We answer to a higher authority." It's so cheeky.
Okay, but none of that is really the "Ewwww" part of this post. The "Ewwww" part of this post can be found when you click on this link.
*strikes the Moon-Unit-Zappa-gag-me-with-a-spoon pose*
Now. The Delfino mini-reunion is at my house on Saturday, and I realize I've just completely set myself up for someone bringing a big 'ol platter of Octodogs, but I'm just telling you right now: you will not gain entrance.
This, I swear.