So here's the most upsetting thing that my drunk ass mind can come up with right now:
So I hate hot dogs, usually. They disgust me. But right now, my alcohol addled brain is fucking FOCUSED on hot dogs like you wouldn't believe. We did have a pack in the fridge. Unopened and everything. But I just looked for them, mouth already watering in anticipation of that Ball Park goodness... and nothing. No hot dogs. I'm so pissed. Instead I have to settle for a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
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