From the Vault: Ronnie Roundhauser Goes To The Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest
Hello interweb community,
This is Ronnie Roundhouser and I’m now a blogger for smartassradio.com, lucky you. For those who don’t know (a-holes), I am a famous record producer. Unfortunately, my fame has not always brought in the dough, though one of my records did go aluminum….all right, enough introduction, what I want to talk about today was this: eating fucking hot dogs. Due to my stardom I scored a spot in Nathan’s HD Eating Contest. I prepped for this bad boy all week. I’m talking upwards of eight hotdogs a day, pretty fuckin’ unbelievable. Anyhow, I got this great idea the night before the big eat off. I say to myself, “Ronnie when do you eat the most shit?”. Clearly, its when I’m so high off my fuckin’ ass I think the sun is trying to put its fingers through my hair. So its like eleven in the pm, but I take the pick-up over to my buddy Ted’s. He’s got a nice tent setup on the roof of the local Home Depot. Mini-Fridge, George Foreman Grill and he’s always ready with a bag of cheetos. So after a lengthy climb to the top of the Depot, I meet up with Teddy and, like always, that son of bitch has got a bag of cheetos just waiting for me. Gotta love that son of a bitch. I start chowing down on these cheese puffs and I’m just about to ask Ted for some ganja when I come upon the hugest fuckin’ cheeto I’ve ever seen in my whole fuckin’ life. This thing was massive. Bigger than yours truly’s endowments, ie: fuckin’ astronomical. So I’m holding up this cheeto with two hands like it’s a set of bull testicles and I’m shouting to Ted, “you gotta come see this you son of a bitch!”. So Ted runs over and he’s thinking the same shit I am: the cheeto is a sign from Zeus that I’m going to school Johnny Rub-nuts and that chink in the HD eatin’ contest. Ted runs off to get me some twine so I can wear this thing round my neck while I sleep and I yell for him to bring out the ganja too. I figured I would just smoke for the twelve hours before the contest that way I could definitely eat a ton. Long story short: Ted doesn’t have any ganja, I get as pissed as a beehive in a toolbox, I take all Ted’s cheetos, repel down the Home Depot and take a taxi to the train station.



