British Hotdogs

For some reason I was thinking about hotdogs this morning – Phil has them occasionally. I refuse, because they don’t actually have anything here that an American would recognise as a hotdog. Oh, they have watery things in cans that are marketed as hotdogs, sure, but no Ballpark franks or anything meaty in packages. The hotdogs here just scream mystery meat, they are thin and watery, and are packed in some kind of brine in cans, rather like long thin Vienna sausages. Nasty.

I’ve always had a kind of squick lips-and-assholes vibe about hotdogs, anyway, although I always bought Hebrew National franks. I don’t think it can be kosher if you put nasty meat byproducts in it – I could be wrong, but they seemed to have a higher ass than asshole quotient, if you know what I mean. Ok with lots of goodies piled on them on the Fourth of July.

But anyway…enough about hotdogs. I’m feeling a bit queasy.

The lesson last night was very good. Sally looked my test over and was surprised that I managed to get 60% when I had one movement that was a three. lol… We worked on canter, and figured out that Lizzie has been trained to canter without the use of the outside leg, which feels very weird. Ok, inside leg at the girth only, and she’s happy. Strange. This will make flying changes interesting.

Not much else happening; just very stressed at work which makes me tired. I’ve been reading everyone’s entries, but am too stressed and exhausted to come up with any intelligent comments.