A Detailed Examination of the History and Condiments of Hot Dogs

“Hoootttt…..Dooooooggggggsssssss….*drops a snowglobe*”

~Orson Wells’ last words

Americans truly are champions of unhealthy food, as we’ve documented time and time again.  With each American cuisine comes another foolproof method for us to gain incredible weight without having to suffer through eating anything that is not amazingly delicious.  Steaks, hamburgers, fried food and beer, all of these have been hoisted by the America Fun Fact of the Day staff as symbols of our greatness.  We are a land of temptation, and as the antagonist-character-who-is-a-thinly-veiled-metaphor-for-the-Devil-in-a-Christian-“movie”-made-by-a-Megachurch would tell us, “Sin is in”.

But one American food stands head and shoulders above all else, something that is delicious, high in fat, calories, sodium, nitrates, and suicide bomber white blood cells.  A food that, eaten alone, is already terribly unhealthy for you, but is expected to be combined with deep fried starches.  A food that should be filling, but where eating two, or even three, over the course of a baseball game is no big deal.  A food so American that every year we have competitions to see who can cram the most down our throat, and when a Japanese person dared to claim the world record, an American trained himself, Rocky style, to kick his ass by setting new world records each year.

We are of course talking about the reason why American health care is so expensive, the Hot Dog.

Just because it’s phallic does not make us gay to want to have sex with this right now.

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Ernest Hemingway Punches With His Writing Hand

“For me, bullfighting is much like driving.  I’m much better at it when I’ve been drinking.”

~Ernest Hemingway

American writers are a difficult group to pin down.  They can be champions of American virtues, the AFFotD-approved freelancers who punch bears and write sonnets, or they can be Dan Brown.  For every Mark Twain, there’s a Stephenie Meyer (who AFFotD staffers had to look up the name of several times by googling “that chick who wrote those shitty vampire books.”)  But when discussing American authors who were American, the entire AFFotD staff agreed that if there is a gold standard for American badass writers, the list would have to start with one Ernest Miller Hemingway, a writer so righteously American that, when we accidentally started to spell his name with two M’s instead of one, the ghost of his beard apparated and kicked Chuck Palahniuk so hard in the genitals that his balls penned a short story deriding materialism in society.

That’s right, Hemingway’s beard’s ghost is American enough to indirectly pen a short story good enough to get published in the New Yorker.  Not that we can say we were surprised.   Come on.  Look at that thing.

And with that look, seven French women just became impregnated.

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A Road Trip of Roadside Attractions Through America’s Midwest: Part 1

“Are we there yet?  Are we there yet?  Are we there yet?”

~Those fucking kids.  I swear to God, I will drive this van into a ravine.


America is a land of roads.  More than any other nation, the highways and interstates of this great land speak of a legacy.  You can drive to any state you want, assuming you had enough time, gas money, and activated charcoal to fool the breathalyzers.   Except for Hawaii, but Hawaii the 51st most American state in the World.  Guam is ahead of it, and Guam isn’t even a goddamn state.

But if it is the roads of America that serve as this nation’s heart, roadside attractions serve as our soul.  America can take something like twine, try to make the world’s biggest ball of it, and center it as the primary reason for people to visit their town.  And people will stop and see that big ass ball of twine because hey, that’s sorta cool, besides, we all need a piss stop anyway.  Hell, this is a country that not only has a “world’s largest cherry pie tin,” they have a contending giant pie tin forty-five minutes away.

No other place in the world comes close to the glory of a roadside attraction during a lengthy road trip.  In Europe, you have to deal with Smart Cars getting all up on your grill.  In South America, the closest thing they have to a “Roadside attraction” is the fact that they carve murder roads into cliffs as a way to battle population growth.

“Hola?”  “ADIOS!”

Every state in America has something just off the highway in some small town that is gloriously pointless.  What is more American than the World’s Largest Toilet ?  Why, the World’s Largest American Flag, obviously, and that’s just two towns over.  Fuck yes!

America’s Midwest is often known as “America’s Heartland,” and Indiana even admits in its state motto of “The Crossroads of America” that “You basically go through our state to get where you want to go.”  For this reason, today’s America Fun Fact of the Day will be about…

Landmark Attractions of the American Midwest (or, like, 3 states)

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Hamburgers: Deliciously American

“Heart attacks are just God’s way of congratulating you for being so damn American.”

~Chester B. Arthur


America has not always been known as a culinary giant of the world, the concept of “gourmet” food being a laughably European notion for much of the 20th century.  And while many foods that we take for granted, such as pizza, ice cream and paint thinner, get their roots from other, non-American nations, one food staple will always be synonymous with American consumption.

Of course, we are talking about…the Hamburger.

Oh dear God, that explains why food porn blogs exist…

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America Fun Fact of the Day’s Discussion of Super Bowl 2011

Dadada dada daaaa, BUMMM, dadada dada daaaa, BUMMM, dadada dadada, DUH DUH DAH DUHHH. “

~You, drunkenly, tonight

When you think of America, what comes to mind?  Eating junk foodSeven layer bean dips?  Drinking copious amounts of beer during a Sunday afternoon?  Watching full grown men give each other concussions?  Fuck yes!  America!  Super Bowl!  FOOTBALL!  FOOOTBALLLLLLLLLLL!

FOOOOOOOTBAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLL

Today is an important day for the alcohol industry, the fledgling bacon loaf industry, and ad executives who trick companies to pay millions of dollars for usually ineffective commercials that, even when they’re good, no one remembers what they advertise.  But most of all, today is important…for America.

Today is Super Bowl We-Don’t-Know-What-Roman-Numerals-Mean-Because-I-Mean-Come-On-This-Is-America-Get-Your-Head-Out-Of-Your-Ass,-NFL.  Two teams that have names that have been used as insults to people face off, the Robbers versus the Homosexual Innuendos.  So to honor these teams, which have a combined 9 Premature Death Trophies between them, America Fun Fact of the Day is here to give you a comprehensive history of the Super Bowl and this year’s contenders of the number one reason for hangover induced sick days of the year.

This is the look of two people who did not remember anything after the first quarter of the previous day’s game.  On the plus side, that means they missed having to see the Black Eyed Peas.

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An American History of America’s Liquor: Bourbon

“If I haven’t gotten drunk to the point that I start hallucinating, it’s been a crap night.  Now, who wants to duel?”

~Andrew Jackson

While the America Fun Fact of the Day staff never really paid much attention in History Class, we do remember at one point hearing “something something that turns that cogs of the American machine.”  Knowing what we know about America (namely everything, despite whatever that bitch of an American History summer school teacher told us) there is only one logical thing this could have been referring to.

That, of course, is booze.  And of all the boozes out there, only one is so American it was discovered in America, created in America, named after somewhere in American, and is responsible for more spouses accidentally falling down the stairs in America than a Green Bay Packers loss.

We are of course referring to the brownest of the browns, the sweetest of the sweet, giver of life and hangovers.  Bourbon.

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William Shakespeare’s American Past

“It’s almost the weekend, so everybody better fucking rage.”

~William Shakespeare, Hamlet- Act 6, scene 14

At the America Fun Fact of the Day, we sometimes have to recognize our roots.  It’s a painful experience that every one on staff remembers vividly, when we first found out that America has not been around forever.  For most of us, we finally accepted this fact by the time we were 18, but that doesn’t make it sting any less.  In Elementary school, we would say with scorn, “Oh, the pilgrims were English?  Go ahead, pull the other one, it plays Ave Maria.”  In Middle School, we would say, “We don’t have time to listen about ‘Mesopotamia,’ we’re going to taste-test the difference between 12-year-old and 15-year-old Bourbon.”  We’re not legally allowed to discuss our reaction to this information in High School, because juvenile records are sealed, but you get the picture.

We’re not saying we started this…but that’d be impressive, right?

But when you let go of your preconceived notions, you can recognize all the reasons why America is so great.  So, when we found out that all those damn fancy word plays we were reading were actually by a British dude, we were pissed.  Until we dug a little deeper, and found the American roots…of William Shakespeare.

Si.

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Ulysses S. Grant Loves Whiskey, Hates Pants

“I’m so drunk right now, I have no idea what’s going on.  Where are my pants?”

~President Ulysses S. Grant, Battle of Gettysburg

As a general rule, we here at America Fun Fact of the Day like our Civil War generals, and our nation’s leaders, like we like our coffee.  Just filled to the brim with booze.  And while many famous U.S. Presidents dabbled in their own well known vices (JFK’s foot fetish, FDR’s presidential throne made out of people, Bill Clinton’s ecstasy raves) few were able to employ their debauchery to so effectively serve the nation as Ulysses S. Grant.

Pictured:  Proof that no man can ever again be this manly.

Not pictured:  Pants

Also Pictured:  Cow lick

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The American Tale of C. Dale Petersen

“Guys, you gotta help me.  C. Dale Petersen is after me.  You gotta help, I’m…I’m so scared…”

~Rambo

When the America Fun Fact of the Day staff goes on manly-adventure-excursions, or “Manventursions” as we refer to them, we usually have a break in the program right after “extreme skydiving” and right before the jalapeño peppers eating contest so we can silently reflect on how manly and awesome we are.  J

ohnny Roosevelt, our editor-in-chief and the grandson of Teddy, regales us with stories of celebrity sexual conquests (Jessica Alba and Kathleen Turner on the same night, and Kathleen still had moves) and unbelievable feats of strength (he straight up knocked out Arnold Schwarzenegger in a game of Knuckles Roulette).  Our accountant talked about how he went to jail for murdering an elephant in a public zoo.  However, our photoshop guy ruined the mood when he kept bitching about how we never use photoshopped pictures, and just steal shit off of google images, which was the opposite of manly.  So we fired him.  With fire.

“YOUR JOB IS SO EXPENDABLE, BILLY!”

After the embers cleared we all had a great laugh until we stumbled upon a plaque that proved that, no matter how hard we try, how many Midget Tossing records we hold, or how many geriatric three-ways we pull off, we can never be manly enough.  Because we had seen true manliness, and all else seemed like a cheap imitation in comparison.

We are referring to C. Dale Petersen, a man so manly that if you ever said his complete first name out loud, your hand would spontaneously turn into a bouquet of dicks.

To recap the plaque pictured above, C. Dale Petersen ran into a royally pissed of Grizzly Bear.  C. Dale Petersen, who adhered to his personal credo of “Do not fuck with C. Dale Petersen,” rammed his fucking arm down the bear’s throat. And, at risk of using excessive italics, we must point out the fact that he then bit into the bear’s jugular vein to make it pass out before bashing it in the head with a stick to DEATH.

To recap.  This.  Throat.  Stick.  To death.

These actions are so manly they just gave Burt Reynolds a sex change operation.

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Blizzards, a Hazardous Foe

“We rap all the time, all we do is so much rapping, do do doodle dee do do do.”

~The Blizzard Man

When winter approaches, we hang up our special coat of arms with one of our Latin credos (yes, we have more than one Latin credo).  “Bruma Fuck.”  Fuck winter.  And despite our hatred of this, the cruelest of seasons, and our even stronger hatred of that entitled shrew known as “Mother Nature,” we at AFFotD have to give props where props are due.  And that’s Blizzards.  Because they will mess you up, and they do not fuck around.

Though 2011 is just in its infancy, we’ve already encountered massive snowstorms in our East Coast offices, with our Chicago offices looking at 20 inches of snow in the upcoming days.  So, much like how a criminal profiler has to get inside the mind of the killers he chases, we at the AFFotD offices need to think like Blizzards, before they kill us all.

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