song – WMD LUV
July 31, 2007
[splashcast UVZH8186IF BOAY1472HC]
so if you haven’t been keeping up with the hard news lately, today this american guy won the hot dog eating championship of the world. he beat this japanese guy, who had been the champion for a long time. i saw a clip on the news and he had wrapped his swollen frame with a large american flag kind of like some competitive eating echo of the statue of those soldiers planting the flag at iwo jima and it is the fourth of july and it is all very heartwarming.
what i am really hoping is that our president will invite the hot dog eating champion to the white house for a tour or maybe even to stay the night. actually maybe it would be better if he brought him up to kennebunkport for a summit, like with putin. then george will be able to really let his hair down and maybe even the first evening as they sit on the veranda at a picnic table which probably cost thousands of dollars because it is made of a very rare wood, george, in a plaid shirt with his sleeves rolled up and his chest bared, will unveil a platter full of finely grilled dogs in fluffy white buns and he willchallenge mr. joey chestnut, the champion, to a hot dog eating contest, he will say “hey chesty, i mean, hey nuts, ha ha, lets do this thing, boy” and drop the platter on the table so it lands with a thud and the dogs shake and roll.
and of course joey chestnut must oblige, he’s the guest. and so laura stands over them and counts them down, 1, 2, 3, and joey and george tear into their first dogs. and joey is going as slow as possible because he knows he’s facing an amateur, that he’ll have no problem winning, but george is using the water like a real pro and is already on his second dog and now his third and so joey steps up the pace, but it’s no big deal. and they go, and george is looking joey straight in the eyes as he crams the dogs down his gullet, and joey is thinking these eyes declared war, these eyes have killed legions, and now the dogs are dwindling and joey and george are neck and neck and now what joey is thinking is do i get moving and win this thing or do i take the fall. and at first he thinks, i gotta win this, he’s expecting me to win, i’m the champion of the world here, he’ll be disappointed if i don’t win, i’ll be an embarassment to the U S of A. and so he speed up and passes george by a frank, no sweat. but then he sees the secret service guys off by the windows of the house, eating dogs of their own, and their eyes are locked on the president or him, it looks like they’re watching him too, and he sees the bulges of their sidearms under their black suits, and there are just three dogs left and it’s a dead heat and george, george is still staring into him and there’s spit running down his chin and what joey is thinking is, what happens if he doesn’t win? what’s he going to do if he doesn’t win this hot dog eating contest? and joey picks up a dog and george is on one and there’s just one left on the plate, and it’s all mushed from being under the other ones and joey looks down at the dog and he looks up at the eyes and back and forth and back and forth and then he throws up all his hot dogs from the anxiety and is very quietly escorted to his room by the secret service men and later laura brings him weak tea and dry toast to eat in bed and she reads to him from her well worn paperback copy of “the brothers karmazov” and tiptoes out of the room when he falls asleep.
or maybe in the middle of the contest george chokes like he did on that pretzel a few years back and joey tries to give him the heimlich, being well practiced in the maneuver as a veteran competitive eater, but the secret service guys misinterpret this and tackle joey and administer pressure to a certain point at the base of his skull, killing him instantly. the president has a press conference the next day explaining that joey choked to death and that he was a great american and an example for many and the loss is tragic and they bury him at arlington and instead of a twenty one gun salute they have twenty one shaken-up bottles of diet coke that they drop mentos in so that the foam rises into thick fountains and then evaporates like brown, caffeinated tears in the nicely manicured grass.
this is the second song i ever wrote and the first that i recorded (which you can tell by the myriad errors in production and playing). it is called “WMD LUV” and it is a love song sung by an atom bomb.