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My brother, an Airman and, more importantly, my best friend, is as much of a disappointment as his sister. Despite having been guided by our parents and disciplined by the U.S. Air Force, his standards for living have obviously declined since he’s been on his own. This is evidenced by the contents of his refrigerator:

Here we have a mostly eaten package of taco-flavored shredded cheese, two hot dogs, jelly, mustard, and a Domino’s…coupon. Remind you of anyone? It’s obvious now more than ever that we share the same bloodline.

I wonder if he eats this stuff in his underwear. I doubt he eats anything in his underwear. In fact, I doubt he even eats.

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Last summer, I jumped out of a plane with my brother and dad off the coast of Kauai. Last year, I ate a Puka Dog. I’m still not sure which is the greater triumph.

A Hawaiian take on the classic hot dog, a Puka Dog seems wrong, but feels so right. Except if you have more than one. Then you’ll just feel like vomiting, which we nearly did.

Before you can even think about eating this in your underwear, it’ll be gone–that’s how good it is. Then you’ll think, Yum–I want another, but I assure you, you don’t. Have one and be done.