Sausage Wars
My friend Brian and I have been playing a game of "hide the sausage" for several years now.
Having typed that I recognize, almost immediately, the need to quantify the above. For all of you who have stumbled upon this blog through google searches for "hide the sausage" I wish you well in your searching endeavors but need to firmly assert that your quest for meaty hijinks has not found fulfillment in this place.
Now, on with the story...
Quite some time ago Linda and I were preparing to dispose of a shrink-wrapped smoked sausage made from a company such as Pepperidge Farms or Hillside farms or any one of a number of farms that do that sort of thing. Brian, in a moment that I am sure he has come to rue, noted how funny it would be to serruptitiously hide this pork product in each others houses, much like some friends of his do at their workplace, with a similar smoked meat that appears in cubcilces at random.
It was, then, as they say, "on".
And so one day I slipped my sausage into Brian's abode. Weeks later, he left it hidden behind a picture on my mantle. Back and forth went this sausage until I was finally left holding the thing wondering what could next be done with this thing.
Did I mention that there was a party at Brian's house this weekend? Did I mention that my mother was staying with us this weekend and attended the party? (it was a family friendly party, with a wide age range from 9 months to what may have been 999 months).
Brian has become adept at searching me for sausage when I go to his house. However, he never suspected my mother who smuggled the byproduct in with her purse and, before leaving, hid it with aplomb.
So, have I completely given up the ghost? Was this sortee in vain given my propensity to blab about it?
Absolutely.
But on the off chance that Brian reads this blog, and realizes that my mother smuggled the dreaded sausage into his house and hid it where she did is just too much for my extroverted self to contain. So, to Brian, happy sausage hunting and forgive us if your parents are never allowed inside my home.
-Ed
ps. As one friend put it, this was an excellent example of "reverse frooking".
Having typed that I recognize, almost immediately, the need to quantify the above. For all of you who have stumbled upon this blog through google searches for "hide the sausage" I wish you well in your searching endeavors but need to firmly assert that your quest for meaty hijinks has not found fulfillment in this place.
Now, on with the story...
Quite some time ago Linda and I were preparing to dispose of a shrink-wrapped smoked sausage made from a company such as Pepperidge Farms or Hillside farms or any one of a number of farms that do that sort of thing. Brian, in a moment that I am sure he has come to rue, noted how funny it would be to serruptitiously hide this pork product in each others houses, much like some friends of his do at their workplace, with a similar smoked meat that appears in cubcilces at random.
It was, then, as they say, "on".
And so one day I slipped my sausage into Brian's abode. Weeks later, he left it hidden behind a picture on my mantle. Back and forth went this sausage until I was finally left holding the thing wondering what could next be done with this thing.
Did I mention that there was a party at Brian's house this weekend? Did I mention that my mother was staying with us this weekend and attended the party? (it was a family friendly party, with a wide age range from 9 months to what may have been 999 months).
Brian has become adept at searching me for sausage when I go to his house. However, he never suspected my mother who smuggled the byproduct in with her purse and, before leaving, hid it with aplomb.
So, have I completely given up the ghost? Was this sortee in vain given my propensity to blab about it?
Absolutely.
But on the off chance that Brian reads this blog, and realizes that my mother smuggled the dreaded sausage into his house and hid it where she did is just too much for my extroverted self to contain. So, to Brian, happy sausage hunting and forgive us if your parents are never allowed inside my home.
-Ed
ps. As one friend put it, this was an excellent example of "reverse frooking".
posted by Ed at 1:28 AM
6 Comments:
Damn sneaky!
Btw, you sneak the rest of that Cap't out?
Way too funny! You've just made my Monday all the more delightful with your stories this mornging!
Thanks
Do not believe the imperialist lies. Not only is there no sausage in our house, the infidels have a much more serious intruder among them. A simple sausage is the work of an amateur; you will find a much more odious intruder in your home, an object so insidious that you cannot bear to consider its presence, even though it is sitting in plain sight! Bwahahahaha!!!!!!
Thank you, Baghdad Brian. 8)
I hope the odius intruder in plain site that you refer to is not our decor.
Would it be in poor taste to introduce a second sausage in to the war?
Can you imgaine the confusion, the horror of coming back home after successfully planting it and finding it again?! Muahahahahahahahah
Who would have thunk that hiding the sausage would have upped my google hits?
And, Phil, I must note that the phrases "introduce a second sausage" and "confusion and horror" are often found together in a sentence.
-Ed
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