As an homage to the indefatigable hot dog, a troupe of intrepid anti-foodies took to the streets June 13 for the inaugural Hot Dog Death March. Not so much a death march as it was a death drive (yes, most of the participants drove between hot dog venues), the hot dog-a-thon began at the legendary line of Pink's, meandered over to (in)famous Oki Dog and culminated at Skooby's on Hollywood Blvd. Helmed by weineratrix Lucinda Michele Knapp and hot dog historian Julia Frey of the local blogging site L.A. Metblogs, the duo valiantly led the marchers across the city searching for frankfurters.
At Pink's, Hot Dog Death Marchers extolled their love of the mystery meat by performing inspired hot dog haikus. One particular marcher, David Share, was more than pleased to display his mastery of the 17th century Japanese art form: "Dear pressed pig sweepings/ You taste so good in my mouth / Wait. That's what she said."
After defeating the Pink's line, the hot doggers moved on to Oki Dog, home of their intimidating specialty: two hot dogs, pastrami, and chili-cheese wrapped in a tortilla. Some of the bravest marchers attempted "the Oki Dog," but the smartest heeded the advice to refrain from eating the bean-residue hiding at the end of the burrito. For those with stomach space after ingesting the veritable meat-brick at Oki Dog, Skooby's thinly cut fries, fresh lemonade and kraut-dogs lived up to the Hollywood institution's claim about being "serious about wieners." As Frey served up more trivia via bull horn (Marlene Dietrich's favorite food: champagne and hot dogs) to the marchers and Hollywood's Germs fans, stroller-pushers, and Euro tourists, the death march ended not with a bang, but with a wiener. Viva la Franks!
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