Kindling

Millimetres, right? There was a pause and the TV blathered in the background on the other end of the line. I knew he’d said centimetres I just couldn’t believe it and almost didn’t even when he confirmed: Nope, centimetres. Centimetres didn’t make sense. 6×3 cm was like the size of the block of cheddar I had left in the fridge or the travel sized bottle of Reactine in my backpack. I involuntarily cringed, tensed, and held my breath like I was about to have blood drawn. Holy shit. What the fuck are they going to do? I asked, laughing. The laugh was also involuntary. It came from disbelief and seemed to help make digesting the news easier. There was no way a kidney stone that large would pass on it’s own, it would split his dick like firewood. Canned laughter came from the television. Man, I don’t know, he said.

Connect the Dogs

In January, police closed a street in Florence, Alabama, after a suspicious package was found outside of the local courthouse. The package turned out to be a bag of hotdogs. In September of 2008, the bomb squad was called to Citizen Bank Park, home of the Philadelphia Phillies, after three suspicious packages were spotted near the stadium. After detonating the packages it was discovered, due to the meaty shrapnel, that they were also hotdogs. (Leftover hotdogs that the Phillie Phanatic had been firing out of some sort of wiener cannon for a commercial shoot earlier that day.)

Following my recent discovery of this trend of potentially explosive frankfurters, it made the news last week that a street was closed here in Vancouver after a suspicious device was reported to be found in a parked vehicle. The Explosive Disposal Unit determined it was a false alarm but never disclosed whether or not the suspicious device was, in fact, hotdogs. This leaves me wondering how many of these “suspicious packages” or “devices” that are reported every day, all over the world, are actually just hotdogs? And why have we grown so suspicious of our once revered campfire cookout staple? Is it because of that one Simpsons episode where Principal Skinner wears a hotdog bomb vest? Or that hotdogs cause 17% of food asphyxiation deaths of American children aged ten and under and are a nutritional dead zone? Or are we finally grossed out about eating compacted tubes of jumbled up livestock anus’ and feel the need for police intervention? That’s probably it.