I know, about as cheesy of a title as one will find
It probably sounds un-American, but I hate hot dogs. This loathing stems from my childhood and I can't tell you why exactly. It's a very vague memory, but I think it started at a Mariners game and had something to do with the texture of the food and the act of choking (me, not the Mariners)-well more like gagging, but "choking" set up the pun . Freud would claim that the fact that I can't vividly recall the details must prove just how traumatic this event was in my life. Even today when I go to a ballgame, I feel like I'm a stranger in a strange land: I'm chomping on pizza while everyone else is enjoying their dog. Despite all of this, I didn't have a problem consuming this 1992 Lykes Braves team set.