If the plaineagles come over here and start sniffin' Thibideaux and Boudreaux in the corndog area, there's going to be some ass-whippin's for sure, mon ami. That ain't healthy.
Or, everytime we pass each other on the street or terminate a conversation or finish wiping ourselves we can shout "WAR CORNDOG!!!"
How about we throw corndogs at Tubby, the players and all their grandmothers this year. Maybe we could even light a few on fire...
