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As far as psychedelic scare stories go, this one is pretty tame. After all, don't we all hear the primal scream of the hot dog in real life? Myself, one early experience revealed to me that my flesh was composed of the same material as Hostess Twinkies (R). It wasn't as horrible as the experience of biting into a hot dog (much less curb-stomping one), but it did get me thinking. I'd think the documentarians responsible for this piece of work could have found a hot dog face more outre than a Wishnik troll doll. (Danny Baldwin and I used to decapitate the things to creep out the girls, most enjoyably with devices of Baldwin's own nefarious design.) Anyway, across the streams of hopes and dreams where things are really not, here ya go: a cautionary tale.I really wish that people didn't feel it was necessary to shit on a nice period piece like this with some stupid logo intended to imply that some postmodern asshole contributed to the intellectual property somehow. I hope the next time that the proprietor of alldumb.com bites into a hot dog, he severs a few veins impacted with spirochetes.
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