Brette is an aspiring Real Housewife of Miami currently attending law school in New York City until her parents decide that its someone else’s turn to foot the bill. She graduated from the University of Florida with a major in political science and a minor in parking tickets. Since being banned for life from Starbucks after one too many fights with one too many baristas over name misspellings, she has dropped her last name indefinitely, choosing instead to refer to herself as the single syllable androgyny: Brette. Either that or she still thinks her tagged photos from college will still prevent her from ever getting a legitimate job. You can find her on Instagram @brette___ or on JDate in approximately 3 years.

With this confederate flag controversy seemingly ripping our beloved nation apart these days, it’s almost easy to forget that the Fourth of July, the good Ole U S of A’s big, bad birthday, is right around the corner. That is, unless you live under a fucking rock and haven’t seen a Macy’s, Home Depot, Old Navy, or IDK just a commercial in general recently.

In an attempt to unify our fragile state, I set out to do the most American thing I could think of: devour Pizza Hut’s Hot Dog Bites Pizza. You know, the one that’s keeping cholesterols up nationwide and ObamaCare in business. I did this, my fellow Americans, solely so that you will never have to.

This was quite the sacrifice to make for my country, because when it comes to the ranking of pizza delivery companies here’s how I see it:

  1. Domino’s
  2. Papa John’s
  3. Begging My Dad To Get Actual Pizza
  4. Leftover Domino’s
  5. Using Last Year’s Passover Matzoh, Spreading a Lil Marinara, Sprinklin’ Some Mozz, Placing in Microwave Until Patience Wears Thin
  6. Skipping Dinner
  7. Going Vegan
  8. Pizza Hut

First pleasant surprise about Pizza Hut was that you could be desert peyote high and still order a half cheese half pepperoni hot dog encrusted large pizza with special instructions “be nice to lady at guard gate” with simplicity and ease. Not that I was. I was hell bent on eating this monstrosity dead sober. *sigh* I pass on adding the brownie deluxe dessert and signing up for my very own Pizza Hut Account and place my order.

Moments later I receive a follow up call verifying my address. You just don’t see customer service like this anymore, people!

I invited some friends over to share this experience with me because if you think being single and unemployed for an entire summer is bad, the look of pity I received from the delivery boy when he realized I was all alone was far, far worse.


30 minutes pass, and as promised, my masterpiece arrives. I was stingy on the tip, but this man was kind of doing a disservice to my summer diet and it is more than likely I’ll never see this dude ever again in my entire life so, whatever.

Whether it’s that Hebrew National juicy frank grilled weiner, or kosher delight, a hot dog in itself is never not funny. Thus, a mini hot dog is fucking hilarious. So when I opened said pizza to find 28 mini hot dogs fused together to create a halo of mini hot dogs, I literally lost my shit. This is what I’d imagine a bathroom in a gay bar in London looks like. Uncircumcised and extremely close. See photos below.








On that note, it was game time.

The three of us stare at the pizza for longer than three people ever should, all equally confused as to how they managed to get those lil guys on there. Frozen? Hand rolled? Black magic? Upon my first bite, everything seemed normal, but really, how hard is it to fuck up bread and cheese. Friend #1, let’s call her “Halle,” is halfway through her slice, she might be more excited than I am. Friend #2, who we can refer to as “Sam,” skips the foreplay altogether and goes straight for the crust.


Sam is immediately appalled. “THIS IS NAAAAAHHHHT OKAY”

Halle is intrigued.

I stop mid bite, flip my slice and chomp down on what has to be the most unkosher hotdog I’ve ever had the misfortune of eating. This was like when I’m at the supermarket and I see those TGIFriday’s frozen premade dinners or the Marie Calendar 8 Layer Lasagna Bean Dip Casseroles and think who is the kind of person who would actually purchase that? Well, I WAS THAT PERSON.

I’m not quite sure what it’s made out of and I’m not quite sure, even now, that I want to know, but its certainly a texture I’ll never forget.


I pick at some stray pepperonis to help cleanse my tainted palate as I plan my next move. Halle keeps nodding in agreement as I go on about how I may never be able to eat another hotdog, meanwhile she is two slices deep. Sam is still trying to understand my circumcision joke from 20 minutes ago. I pry a hotdog from its breaded crustling (which, side note- was buttery and delicious) in order to further my investigation. Immediate regret floods my body.

I come to realize, as any human with all 5 senses in tact would, that there is no plausible way this hotdog could be made of meat. It bounced. It flopped. It broke clean in half. My dogs, who I’m pretty sure eat their own shit, wouldn’t even go near them. It takes the three of us less than 8 minutes to conclude that only parts of this pizza should be consumed by living human beings. And others, well, I’m just not quite sure how pot is illegal and this isn’t.