Professional hot dog eating is like doin porn movies, it aint any fun.
How very ironic that you made such a statement, farmerman, because, in my past, I was faced with such a decision.
July 12th of 1946. There were a bunch of us recently home from the war and we were sitting around discussing the Battle of the Bulge when we noticed movement from the west.
I looked up and noticed an fat truck driver approaching, carrying a tray of 345 hot dogs. Behind him were a shitload of cheerleaders with their uniforms falling off, literally turning to dust as is their frantic pom-pom waving dictated such action.
I stared at the naked cheerleaders and the one with the massive boobs and full, pouty lips said, "Would you like to engage in some porn, Mister, or would your rather eat as many hot dogs on that truck driver's tray until you reach the point where you start throwing up buckets of mush?
I stared at the cheerleaders. They were all licking their lips and gyrating their hips. One of them mouthed the words, "Take me, your crusty bastard. Make me whole."
I stared at her, and then I looked at the tray of hot dogs.
"Which one, damn it, Gus, which one?", I uttered aloud.
Finally, my mind was made up. I pushed the truck driver aside, spilling the hot dogs as I did so, and started extracting my pulsating rod from my bib overalls as I approached the cheerleaders.
I often look back at the day and wonder if I made the right decision. More often than not... I assure myself that I did.