The Sausage Part 2

However, and for whatever reason, the sausage liberated itself is still unclear. Word came to me that a friend of mine, had upon returning home from the festivities, discovered the sausage in his pocket. Then as anyone who finds a strange sausage upon their person would do, he sliced it up and began to enjoy the last familial connection my father had given me. In fact, another friend who was his roommate saw him eating it and yelled "That's Shin's sausage! It's the only thing his dad ever gave him!" 

Shortly thereafter, I had a conversation about this with my brother, still away at school. He had never received his sausage, one can only imagine the psychological implications of this packaged meat slight. He lamented the loss of mine in empathy. To ease the pain of loss, he gave me a replacement sausage as a gift for the holidays.This is the point at which the sausage began to take on the aspect of "tradition".

If we fast forward a year, we find ourselves …

The Sausage Part 1

Years ago, when I was still able to see youth if I turned around fast enough, I found myself at my parents house for reasons long washed bare by memory. The relationship between my father and I could best be described as granite rubbing against rocks, crumbling loose detritus about us. They were the clenched years. I had been away at school learning about bureaucracy and disappointment.

My allergies, at the time, ravaged me and would often leave my eyes so swollen I would skip classes.  For whatever reason, I chose to tell Dad about this.  Which led to our inevitable clash. "Why aren't you getting allergy shots then?!" "Are you kidding me? I've been bugging you guys to get me allergy shots since I was 12 and your response has always been 'You'll get used to it'!"

I've always found my guitar to be a salve for moments like this and I made use of the Charvette I had left up there. Several hard riffs later my father returned, perhaps realizing he …

Bete Noire

Recently I dreamed of vampires. It's rare for the undead to visit in my dreams. In fact, it's only been within the past few years that the macabre actually moved from my waking fantasy life to the sleeping one. I use my subconscious zombie apocalypse scenarios to see who I should throw under the bus. It's a nice little crib sheet to have in case of doom. It's no surprise, though, that the majority of people I see on a day to day basis are apparently expendable.

The thing about the few zombie dreams I've had, they are so matter of fact. It's something I don't question, rather it's a puzzle I need to solve. So and so has just become infected, what can I do to keep their lumbering, festering self from infecting me and others around me? Should I build an enclosure from pieces of cubicle wall?

This vampire dream I had, phew, the horror surprised me. Vampires are always such pansies, with their romantic aspirations and questionable existential struggle…

Egads! Comcast eats my nuts!

My cherished beloved nuts. Just 13 months ago, I was paying just under $45 a month for Comcast. I was paying $55 for just internet service (which was well worth it since I was paying more than that for shoddy DSL service before that. what a crap.) But they called me (whilst I was over in the Vegas way) and told me they would lower my monthly bills, all I had to do was get basic cable. Wait, says I, you want to give me more service and lower my bills? I thought it had the smell of Scam about it but was assured that if I discovered I didn't want to keep it my service would revert back at no cost. There was no cancellation fee or anything. Balls out! I gave the go ahead. So there I was blissfully immersing myself back into american pop culture. Ten years, sans tv. Boy did I forget how much I hate commercials.

Here, my views of Comcast were highly elevated. I was pleased, nay, elated by the gifts bestowed upon me by the very gods of media......until I had to move. When t…


the binary gods hate me.

01000110 01010101 binary gods!

The Rick

the thing about vanity plates is that i'm not interested in whatever you feel there is about you that you feel you must share with the general public. at least not while i'm stuck behind you in traffic during a sudden snowstorm in october. be it how solid your relationship is by putting both your initials on there, or your occupation, or you ego like "THE RICK", or you sense of humor. but today i was behind a plate that said "RAMRODN" driven by a man that was about 345 yrs old. what's he telling me?
There's been a shift in scenery this way. No more leaks, no more haunts. No more cheap ass rent. And I promise you that this stupid couch/bed will be turned to kindling if I move again. The thing is a beast and mauled me several times during our journey together. I'm going to be investing in furniture made of balsa and bubblewrap.

My occupation has also turned, I no longer feel sick to my soul doing my job.

In different news, today I traded in some useless and mediocre dvds for some horror movies. And with my store credit and various sales I got 4 of em for $6.66. Which makes this the third time this week that number has reared it's ugly head. 666 pieces of spam for a friend, and digging up old files at work dated 06/06/06. What to make of it all eh?

this is just a preliminary post to see if i feel like continuing.


i just found my cd for sale on amazon.

that is unfathomable that it is selling for that much.

i could make a killing!!