Triple Threat
"You know how many foods are shaped like dicks? The best kind!"
-Seth "Superbad"
After four long years, the wait is over. The NCAA Men's basketball tournament returns to Taco Bell Arena (formerly The Pavillion) for first and second round match ups from the West and Midwest regions. Excitement is buzzing all around town, but the tournament is all but an after thought. What could possibly overshadow such an event? Ball United's quest for yet another soccer championship? Perhaps Ian Riley and his words of infinite wisdom? I think you and I both know the real answer: National Corndog Day is finally upon us once more!
The phallus fried food frenzy that has been taking the nation by storm is back and hotter than ever. What better way to celebrate the arrival of spring than to treat ourselves to yet another Frydaddy hosted offering of delectable fried goodness washed down with only the finest mixture of hops and grains west of the Atlantic Ocean. The stage has been set and this year has all the makings of a classic. In 2008 Blake "Sabre" Smith raised the bar to seemingly insurmountable heights eating 20 corndogs and drinking even more beers. 2007 champion Roy "Melvino" Atkinson made a run at the end, but his offensive (17 dogs) was repelled by Blake much like the effects of the multiple restraining orders imposed on Lisa that same fateful day. Will anyone dare challenge this master of wiener gobbling? Can Jason "Spaghetti Bender" Gaudio overcome the shortcomings of a championship defense to focus on the task at hand? Will Zac "funboy" Crist finally be allowed to eat a tenth unit of tots? In the meantime, Jason "FryDaddy" Boyd is trying to track down a backup defibrillator to minimize his liability and provide innocent, wholesome post-game entertainment (sure beats a lawn mower and a rotisserie spit).
With that being said, we look forward to another day of gluttony, basketball, and friendship. Now if we could have a moment of silence for the vegetationless spot in Jason's yard compliments of Rich "Ice" Bearg. From this day forward may that spot be known as Rich's Emesis: a place of meditation, thought, and mucus.
Turned On
Is it weird that Lisa's comment turned me on a little? I mean come on, she was talking about you know what with non other than MR Bearg! All you fags talking/commenting about computer games and how much you can stuff in your pie holes? Damn come on dudes...there is a chick talking about oral sex here! All hands on deck!
See you Saturday dudes, or should I say "closet faggots"? I'm sure most of you will have a witty come back to this post, but I don't care, I'll be hanging out with Lisa....teaching her about marbles and garden hoses!
Dutch "Mofia" Representing Again?
I was wondering when we were going to hear from the ring leader of everybody's favorite Dutch crime syndicate. The new guy Tron has tried to fill your void by butchering and misspelling every sentence he tries to write, but it just was not the same. Grammatical shortcomings aside, are you going to be for real this year, or is the "Mofia" going to disappoint once again?
Is Jack Bauer going to be there?
Some of you may be asking yourselves,"Who the hell is Tron? And why the hell is he coming to NCD?" Well I am here to tell you... Tron is not a make belive character, he is real. Tron is here to put the dog back in corndog, the tot in tator tot, and you the beer back into Rich who supposedly regurgitated all of his last year. Tron may not be up to snuff on his wiener gobbling skills as Sabre or Melvino... But do not underestimate him or lives will we shattered and hearts will be broken. Everyone should pray to God that Tron does not eat corndogs like he plays CoH. It could get real ugly, real fast.
And do not be suprised when the divorced women flock to NCD like the "scout swallows" of Capistrano because of a rumor Tron might make an appearance. For the full story please read http://www.sjc.net/swallows/. Word on the street, divorced ladies love Tron.
Back to the subject at hand. Corndogs + tator tots + beer = crazy delicious. Nuff said! Everyone should remember on thing when that dark day comes on NCD: Tron plays for keeps. You better ask somebody.
In all seriousness, I hope everyone has a more than enjoyable time at NCD.
Tron's Enthusiasm
Dear Tron,
I must admit your enthusiasm is encouraging. I must also admit that after reading your post I originally thought you were one of Lisa's tards. No competent person would stake their claim to fame without having one. I fear that you have been swallowed by the Abyss of delusion. Success in a computer game does not correlate to success in life. If it did Loser Courtial would be a four star general, whom would have saved the World from the Vile Red Falcon, being capable of death 300 times because of all of the 1ups he picked up in level 3. Fiction can be fun, but I find the reference section much more enlightening. I am glad that you are attending the event, and I wish you the best. I will try and nurture your ignorance and help you on your journey. In three years of corndog studies I have a come to realize that there are two incontrovertible facts. There is a Corndog God, and I am him.
Best of Luck,
SABRE
War is Hell
I have to give you props, Tron, for posting on the site. The new guy posting before many of the familiar faces of National Corndog Day (our gracious host Frydaddy included) is very commendable. I do fear, however, that you may have underestimated the World in which you strive to be a part of. Comparing Corndogs to CoH is like comparing World War II to the rock, paper, scissor matches against your brethren at the annual Colville Rainbow Rally.
Again, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but after checking the guest list, it looks like Jack Bauer is not going to be in attendance to save you this time!
That's funny
You better hope eating corndogs is nothing like playing CoH...Because the last time I checked, you couldn't play your way out of a paperbag the Earl of Douche. And by the way, CoH IS based of World War II. Read a book. Unless you mean eating corndogs is like rock paper scissors, in that case, I am phenomenal at rock, paper, scissors. Looks like you lose again Melvino, no change there.
As for the rainbow rally... you weren't even invited. No one who is practicing abstinence was...
Looks like Tron is finished here. I will let Sabre pick up the pieces of what is left of Melvino's dignity. Wait, he is too busy coping with his non-heterosexual ways and his new lady friend. Whispering eye, you better take over (It means vagina).
Game on!
.
Chorizo Dog
It is that time of year once again when we gorge ourselves on breaded meats, tots ,and alcohol while we watch finely tuned athletes strive for a national championship. This year I would like to introduce a new flavor of corndog to the mix. It will consist of a delicious chorizo dipped in homemade corndog batter and fried in the Bayou Classic to a golden brown.
Homemade Batter
Rich dipping meats into homemade batter...sounds interesting to say the least. Do you need a cameraman?
You are the Fernand to my Edmond
It takes hard work and dedication to get to the top of the "eat sparingly" portion of the food pyramid. Once on top, everything looks and tastes perfect. The success, however, can be a slippery slope coated with oils, fats, sweets and nacho cheese. I resisted the temptations and remained a charming and curvaceous champion. Although I stayed true to myself and those who supported me, I could not prevent the inevitable. My fall from grace can be attributed to one man. He took my milestone achievement and devoured it like a plate of his famous saltards. He continues to relish the limelight and is unaware of the wrath that awaits him March 21st. Mine is the classic tale of resentment, remorse, resurrection and revenge. I will not bore you with the details, however, as this post is meant for one person and one person only.
Life is a storm, Sabre. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. Do your worst, for I will do mine. Then the fates will know you as I know you: Sabre, the former NCD Champion.
You are absolutely right Earl
I have to agree with your analogy. It must feel that way to you. After this year I will surely have you locked in the Chateau d'If of disappointment. Do not worry though, for I will visit you once a year. The same NCD every year. On this day I will beat you within an inch of your life with corndog envy so that you may never forget what day it is. If you're thinking afterwards "Why me, oh God?" the answer is: God has nothing to do with it. In fact, God is never in Boise this time of year. To which you may reply "God has everything to do with it. He's everywhere. He sees everything." I will then make a bargain with you. You ask God for help and I'll stop the moment he shows up. Until then you might as well get comfortable with mediocrity. Kings to you, Edmond.
SABRE cannot be trusted
Although I appreciate Sabre's frightful account of my advice on gobbling, I fear I can't take credit. As everyone knows, a classy girl never tells her most prized secrets and as I have been known as Paris "Class, Class, Class" Barton, this holds true to NCD. I believe he was recounting an earlier conversation with Andy Dick. I also believe that this alleged "celebrity" resulting from the miles and miles of dog that passed through Sabre's lips is really just a normal day in the life of a men's truck stop solicitor. The Shel Silverstein parody sounds more like a remake of the recent movie "The Wrestler" and much like that story, a repeat victory may cause an actual heart attack. All boasting aside, it should be another glorious day of beer and sport. The one repeat I am looking forward to is Rich fertilizing Boyd's lawn with regurgitated corndogs and tots. I am also officially lifting any restraining orders that involve Lisa providing her fabulous jello shots and NCD attire. As for myself, I feel it is not necessary to keep score as I am always kicking ass and taking names and in the game of gobbling any phallic food or otherwise I cannot even compete with the contestants listed in the aforementioned comment by FryDaddy/Roy as their scoreboard goes to infinity.
Welcome all Challengers
It's been a crazy, topsy-turvy wild ride. When I first entered as a competitor last year I had no idea of the repercussions of my actions. I was just an awe struck boy with an appetite for dick shaped foods. With every dog that passed it became more and more apparent that the "Hand of God" was holding on to my golden, brown stick and guiding the wieners down my throat. I was nervous and confident at the same time. Having never had this much wiener slide down my throat I had to seek advice from Paris "The Gobbler" Barton. While her corndog experience was somewhat limited she did offer much appreciated advice. "Cup the balls, stroke the shaft, work the tip and swallow the gravy," she said with a tear of familiarity in her eye. These words are what gave me the strength to continue on my newly found quest of greatness. From that point on I was no longer just a puppet in FryDaddy's gluttonous production. I was Zeus, I was Apollo, I was SABRE.
After the dust settled, and the vomit had been absorbed by the bamboo ditch, my life changed forever. I suddenly had more cousins than I remember. I couldn't even pick up a MD 20/20 or a box of Magnums without signing my name on magazines, pictures or tits. The paparazzi was snapping photos of me grabbing my mail, taking out the trash or masturbating to Hannah Montana. Men always joke of pulling "Boy Band Ass" this is because they have never heard of "Corndog Champion Ass." While life seemed as if it couldn't get better, I felt it slowly slipping away.
I was no longer a human in conventional terms. My life had turned into some sort of weird parody of Shel Silversteins' "The Giving Tree." They had swallowed my batter, ravished my tots and gobbled my wiener. I was left abandoned with my stick in hand. I soon learned that there was more to life than cramming meat sticks into my mouth. I decide to take a break from everything. I then learned that I originally had learned wrong.
The past 10 months I have put all of my efforts into my next Everest. I want to be the first repeat champion. They will have to love me the second time around. I have maintained rigorous regiment. I have been completely abstinent, totally by choice. I have only consumed foods that are shaped like dicks, totally by choice. I memorized Sun Tzu's "The Art of War" twice. I feel completely confident in my abilities. I welcome all challengers but once again, if it comes down to a pure guts race, I’m the only one who can win.
Funboyz called...
...and they can't make it this year but I will still attend! Last year was my chance to shine but Sabre took my sunshine (and tots) away. I look forward to another good time!
More beer, less food in 2009.