I overheard a guy at the food counter in a Target ask the girl working there, “Are those hot dogs recent? Because sometimes they’re not a good after they’ve been in there too long.”

I’m sorry, sir, but you forfeited your right to be discriminating when you chose to eat that sweaty processed meat baton glowing on the roller grill at Target. You can’t eat hot dogs from Target and also be a foodie. “Yes, are those hot dogs made with pure corn-fed beef? Do they have any fillers or preservatives that might cause harm to my good health and digestion? Could you please trace the nutritional pedigree of those glistening filler and flesh wands? Please just humor me with this appeal to dignity in my hour of desperation.”

This also reminded me of Patton Oswalt’s brilliant assault on the collective retreat from dignity known as the KFC Famous Bowl, probably his most famous stand up routine:

Less well known, but possibly even funnier, is the follow up routine he did following the launch of the KFC Double Down sandwich, with bacon, cheese, gravy, the Colonel’s Secret Sauce (!) and despair all jammed between two fried chicken breasts instead of buns (sorry no video–has anyone seen a clip of this?):

Extra super bonus: This interview with Oswalt on independent station WFMU, in which a caller from Omaha first makes Oswalt aware of the Double Down sandwich. It’s cool to see how Oswalt worked this into his bit about the KFC Mega-Leg and turned it into eight fresh, hilarious minutes of new comedy instead of just retreading the Famous Bowl routine (which he acknowledges that he was trying to phase out):

Finally, switching gears to another of my favorite stand up routines about food. This time, it’s David Cross contemplating the gall of eating gold for dessert (also no video, but the picture of Cross here is funny enough to sustain the entire six minutes):

The first time my mom ever let me answer the phone, I peed in my pants. The moment meant so much to me, and I choked.

Hello? Is it pee you’re looking for?

This effectively recaps  my life: Curiosity and ambition dismantled by fear. Conspicuous fear that humiliates, expressed by a slowly radiating ripple of urine. Or worse.

I remember this event vividly because it was humiliating. I recall tiny moments of embarrassment more specifically than even extreme pain, sexual satisfaction or Arrested Development dialogue. Embarrassing moments create grey matter globs that activate without warning decades later. They can reduce you to wobbly insecurity jelly even in your most happy, carefree moments.

I know this also because I accidentally called my teacher “mom” in the third grade and it still haunts me.

I shared this on Facebook and my friend Davin recalled that The Simpsons played this joke amusingly with Ralph Wiggum once. The best part is there really was a kid within earshot who immediately called me out with a Nelsonesque “HA-ha, you called Ms. Miller ‘mom’! Ms. Miller is Doug’s mom! HA-ha!”

Now, how do we bring this all back to pants wetting? The second thing Davin shared was this transcendent grade school anecdote:

I got sent home in 3rd grade with a note about how I’d gotten into a “disruptive argument” with a teacher who didn’t think kelp is algae. I was in the right, but, to her credit, I did piss my pants from my outrage during the confrontation.

This story has changed my life in an important way. I am going to adopt this communication technique for tense meetings at my office. As soon as someone challenges my perspective, I will stand up, shout “Kelp is algae!” wet myself and leave the room.

Making its way around Twitter tonight. This is the best video we have ever seen.

This also inspired other Eagles/baby snatching lyrics:

• “I get a peaceful, easy feelin’ / And I know you won’t let me down / Cause I snatched up your baby off the ground”
• “Somebody’s gonna hurt someone before the night is through / Some bird is gonna snatch your son / There’s nothin’ you can do”
• “Just remember this, my girl, when you look up in the sky / You can see how far your toddler will take flight”
• “And still those babies are snatched up from far away / They pick them up in the middle of their flight, cause they’re birds of prey”

UPDATE: I so wanted to believe. Something never looked quite right, but invested hope and optimism that we could all unite in the majesty of the baby snatching eagle. Alas, my dreams are dashed yet again.

“Thish ish a delischus reschippee, what’sh your scheeckrit?”

“I’ll have the hassch brownshh schattered, schmotherrd and covehrrd.”

“I’d like to schorrt schell this schtock.”

“I wonsh won a Oshker for a role in whicsh I didn’t even schpeak a worrd.”

“Yessh offisher I will schubmit to a schobriety tesht.”

“Thingsh Holly Huntrr schoud not schayy.”

Q: There seems to be some sort of bustle in my hedgerow. What should I do?

A: Foremost, do not be alarmed! 

Q: Is it OK to wear linen after Labor Day?

A: Oh yeah. Ah yeah. Ah, ah, ah! It’s perfectly OK in warm climates!

Q: Does anybody remember laughter?

A: Yes. Phyllis Diller, Dick Cavett and Alan Greenspan. Thanks for asking!

Q: Where was the soul of a woman created?

A: That’s a terrific question! Below.

Q: Hey, Robert, what do women need?

A: It. And in most cases, way down inside.

Q: Hey, Robert, what are your theories about big-legged women?

A: I don’t know for certain, but sources tell me they’re soulless.

• We’ll have a good time, with me and all the gang. Learning from each other, while we bang and blame! #CosbyCoversREM (Inspired by the @JohnMoe, NPR’s greatest contribution to our society.)
• Headline yesterday: “Police: Bieber sex may be investigated.” We’ve had our suspicions, but is this really a law enforcement issue?
• “Prostate cancer found in 2,000-year-old Egyptian mummy.” Well, at least they found it early.
• Remember the 90s NBC sitcom Wings? It turns out costar Steven Weber has become an underemployed, relentlessly creepy and unfunny Twitter troll. And he has launched an embarrassingly shitty Web site called . . . wait for it .  . . The World Wide Weber! And we thought our site sucked! A tip for Lowell: If you feel the need to label your own Web site as “humorous,” then it probably isn’t.