Don't know how you stumbled into my little hot dog stand on the ether, but glad you could make it. Please, sit down and relish one of my plump, nitrate-laden weenies. (I can almost hear Ignatius J. Reilly salivating.) For your added enjoyment, I offer a full array of condiments: poems that rhyme, poems that don't rhyme, stories with complete sentences, others without, most sans plot, and random musings sure to weary even the most patient reader--all to make that pink savory in your hand go down easy, and maybe even come back up.
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