Kunaak
10-07-2003, 10:26 PM
about 2 months ago, I got hooked on 711 hotdogs.
the 2 for 2 dollars deal.
I had a gnarly habit for my hotdogs too...
ketchup and mustard.
chilli and cheese.
onions.
2 dogs like that a day atleast.
now I been a rather healthy person most of my life, but these dogs were getting the best of me, I wanted more hotdogs.
I was a crack head for them...
being rather concious of my health I knew if I kept this up for a few years, heart burn would be a normal part of my life, and my blood would turn to gristle in about 10 years, thats if my blood could even flow enough to register by then :rolleyes:
well tonight, like any other crack head, I wanted my fix...
I get to 711, and theres no hotdogs to be had.
zilch.
so like any other drug, hotdogs were my gateway drug to more junk food, cheetos, ranch doritos, funyons, candy bars, pop... anything quick and cheap to give this junkie their fix.
so I am walking about, under the blue neon lights that makes everything a slight shade of grey, obsessing about the scent of hotdogs in the air that was just there a few minutes before I arrived, letting my imagination get the best of me thinking theres a 711 employee in back, with a stack of chili cheese onion coverd hotdogs that he's hiding from me, like a bear hording food for the winter, as I silently get alittle more annoyed wandering around under flourescent lights, staring at grey food, and day dreaming about sheep shaped like hotdogs as I doze off to belly full of crap land.
but no, it was not to be, not a dog for me, not today.
I contemplate walking a mile to the next 711... but it's late.
I needed something to give me the junkie junkfood high I craved like a taxi full of weight watchers girls on a field trip to a all you can eat buffet at Ihop.
my stomach grumbles, although I am almost full from the check mix and pepsi I been eating all afternoon, but I want MEAT.
Meat meat meat, Dear GOD Give Me a HOTDOG:mad:
aaaaand I silent scream inside, and mutter under my breath...
"WTF, how can 711 not have hotdogs, what kinda 2 bit operation are they running here, how can you run out of hotdogs, thats like running out of money. you grind up all the buttholes and elbows into a fine paste and just roll it into a hotdog, they kill 10 million cows and chickens a week, how can you run out of hotdogs... I swear to god, aliens will come to earth 3 million years from now, and all they will find is twinkies, :banana::banana::banana::banana:roaches and hotdogs... wheres my gawd daym hotdooooooooooooooooog"
then like a flash of lighting, the stench lets up, and I see something outta the corner of my eye...
oh and it was like winning the lotto.
I saw a candy bar.
although I don't like candy much, and I am technically 5 minutes away from puking up pepsi and chex mix, that candy sounded so good.
it was like the hotdog cloud floating around the store just opend up to let the flourescent light shine down, as I heard angels on the radio....
it was "Payday" candy bars.
2 for a dollar.
I don't like candy, but it sounded really good.
I haven't had them in years, but the weird mix of nuts, carmel and that white sugar was everything I needed to forget the mysterious allure of hotdogs...
so I snatched it up, and whipped out my debit card all ready to buy it, when CHA CHING, "$2.25 cents please"
snapping outta my oncoming sugar fix, I came back to reality...
"Wait a second, those say 2 for a dollar on sale"
then we get in huge arguement, screaming even.
he began it with this "that sign doesn't say 2 for a dollar"
"yes it does, it's printed right on there"
"well it doesn't mean that candy bar"
"how come theres a picture of this candy bar by the sign?"
"well it doesn't mean the kingsize one"
"well is says 2 kingsize for 1 dollar"
"well you can't buy it"
"why"
"cause I said so, you need to talk to the manager"
"why"
"cause I said so"
then this lady behind me chimes in and says "look thats what the sign says, 2 kingsize for a dollar"
then he gets mad, and rings me up...
"2.25" he said very angrily.
I got pissed off, and walk out.
on my way out he shouts "don't come back to this store"
I look back, and see the same lady behind me, reach down and pick up 2 of the same payday kingsize candy bars, and gives me the thumbs up and starts §§§§§ing at him.
so I leave...
guess I can't go to 711 anymore.
no more hotdogs :rolleyes:
health worry solved :toast:
back to eating good.
take away the drug dealer, you can't get drugs.
no more 711 for me, no more of my junk food drugs :banana:
strange how life works like that.
the 2 for 2 dollars deal.
I had a gnarly habit for my hotdogs too...
ketchup and mustard.
chilli and cheese.
onions.
2 dogs like that a day atleast.
now I been a rather healthy person most of my life, but these dogs were getting the best of me, I wanted more hotdogs.
I was a crack head for them...
being rather concious of my health I knew if I kept this up for a few years, heart burn would be a normal part of my life, and my blood would turn to gristle in about 10 years, thats if my blood could even flow enough to register by then :rolleyes:
well tonight, like any other crack head, I wanted my fix...
I get to 711, and theres no hotdogs to be had.
zilch.
so like any other drug, hotdogs were my gateway drug to more junk food, cheetos, ranch doritos, funyons, candy bars, pop... anything quick and cheap to give this junkie their fix.
so I am walking about, under the blue neon lights that makes everything a slight shade of grey, obsessing about the scent of hotdogs in the air that was just there a few minutes before I arrived, letting my imagination get the best of me thinking theres a 711 employee in back, with a stack of chili cheese onion coverd hotdogs that he's hiding from me, like a bear hording food for the winter, as I silently get alittle more annoyed wandering around under flourescent lights, staring at grey food, and day dreaming about sheep shaped like hotdogs as I doze off to belly full of crap land.
but no, it was not to be, not a dog for me, not today.
I contemplate walking a mile to the next 711... but it's late.
I needed something to give me the junkie junkfood high I craved like a taxi full of weight watchers girls on a field trip to a all you can eat buffet at Ihop.
my stomach grumbles, although I am almost full from the check mix and pepsi I been eating all afternoon, but I want MEAT.
Meat meat meat, Dear GOD Give Me a HOTDOG:mad:
aaaaand I silent scream inside, and mutter under my breath...
"WTF, how can 711 not have hotdogs, what kinda 2 bit operation are they running here, how can you run out of hotdogs, thats like running out of money. you grind up all the buttholes and elbows into a fine paste and just roll it into a hotdog, they kill 10 million cows and chickens a week, how can you run out of hotdogs... I swear to god, aliens will come to earth 3 million years from now, and all they will find is twinkies, :banana::banana::banana::banana:roaches and hotdogs... wheres my gawd daym hotdooooooooooooooooog"
then like a flash of lighting, the stench lets up, and I see something outta the corner of my eye...
oh and it was like winning the lotto.
I saw a candy bar.
although I don't like candy much, and I am technically 5 minutes away from puking up pepsi and chex mix, that candy sounded so good.
it was like the hotdog cloud floating around the store just opend up to let the flourescent light shine down, as I heard angels on the radio....
it was "Payday" candy bars.
2 for a dollar.
I don't like candy, but it sounded really good.
I haven't had them in years, but the weird mix of nuts, carmel and that white sugar was everything I needed to forget the mysterious allure of hotdogs...
so I snatched it up, and whipped out my debit card all ready to buy it, when CHA CHING, "$2.25 cents please"
snapping outta my oncoming sugar fix, I came back to reality...
"Wait a second, those say 2 for a dollar on sale"
then we get in huge arguement, screaming even.
he began it with this "that sign doesn't say 2 for a dollar"
"yes it does, it's printed right on there"
"well it doesn't mean that candy bar"
"how come theres a picture of this candy bar by the sign?"
"well it doesn't mean the kingsize one"
"well is says 2 kingsize for 1 dollar"
"well you can't buy it"
"why"
"cause I said so, you need to talk to the manager"
"why"
"cause I said so"
then this lady behind me chimes in and says "look thats what the sign says, 2 kingsize for a dollar"
then he gets mad, and rings me up...
"2.25" he said very angrily.
I got pissed off, and walk out.
on my way out he shouts "don't come back to this store"
I look back, and see the same lady behind me, reach down and pick up 2 of the same payday kingsize candy bars, and gives me the thumbs up and starts §§§§§ing at him.
so I leave...
guess I can't go to 711 anymore.
no more hotdogs :rolleyes:
health worry solved :toast:
back to eating good.
take away the drug dealer, you can't get drugs.
no more 711 for me, no more of my junk food drugs :banana:
strange how life works like that.