Listen, I love hotdogs just about as much as anybody else you will ever meet in your entire life. Just three hours ago I was grandstanding on the patio of dubs dread asking anyone to challenge me about the history and tradition of a great Southside hotdog. And I fucking meant it. When it comes to hot dogs, I’m not fucking around and neither is anyone that I keep close to my heart. That includes WhiteSoxDave.
That said, and I know this is gonna piss WhiteSoxDave off and I don’t give a fuck, but if it turns out that he puts ketchup on his hotdog then I have no choice but to excommunicate his ass. I’m not talking about probation. I’m talking pure excommunication. Talk to Napoleon. Talk to fucking Benedict Arnold. But don’t cry wolf when you don’t get it because you think all hot dogs are created equal Dave.