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Well, I was going to write some poetry about sausage today, but then I discovered that I can not rhyme.  So, that idea flew out the window.  Ha!

I’ve been reading Winnie-The-Pooh out loud to the Geeklets.  Pooh Bear comes up with some ridiculously clever songs and hums off the top of his head.  If a bear of very little brains can do it, why can’t I?  This does not make me feel very good about myself.

Pooh and I don’t share much in the way of smarts, but we do have about the same appetite.  I can not resist a jar of honey.  Must protect it from those sneaky heffalumps, you know.  It is precious stuff.

Med u saću

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

But, back to the bratwurst. I’ve been ruminating.  What, exactly, is the difference between something like, say, a normal everyday hot dog, and, say, this:

Bratwurst

 (Photo credit: rdpeyton)

Who is not drooling right now?  Anyone?  Anyone?

I thought not.

And with that thought, I shall leave you, my faithful readers.  I’m off to go eat a little something.

 

 

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