So Hot Doug has announced (somewhat coyly) that come October, he’ll be as splitsville as an over-boiled wiener, leaving Chicagoans to make do with only 2,374 other hot dog stands. We all know that Hot Doug’s was a special place. Your Humble Narrator himself was even chewed out and called a “douche bag” several months ago for not giving Doug Sohn's Sausage Superstore the Golden Weenie Award as Chicago’s best hot dog stand. Fans are fans. And Doug’s are rabid. So, I’m sending Hot Doug off with a few limericks because, well, an “ode” just seems way too serious. Feel free to add your own limerick or words of farewell in “Comments” below.
A nerdy hot dogger named Sohn
Closed shop, but he threw out a bone:
“I’ll stay till October,
But then it’s all over,
I don’t care how much you all Jones.”
An encased meat purveyor named Doug
Sold hot dogs addictive as drugs
One day he just quit
And gave us all fits
When he got up and pulled out the rug.
There once was a gourmet named Doug
Whose specialty was “le haute dog.”
He made some with kale,
Kangaroo, yak and whale,
He cooked everything but “le hog.”
A creative young chef named Hot Doug
Made fries with the fat from a duck.
Folks gathered for miles
For his quack-rendered fries
It’s no wonder the man looked so smug.
Doug, you have a real shot at the Golden Weenie next Fall – why not stick around?
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