So Sausages

WARNING ... if any of my kids are watching ya may want to look away ... WARNING

WARNING .. some shit you really dont want to think about in context to yer mother .. WARNING

( my son insists i now add warnings ;-) i think the vibrator in the draw blog shocked him)

yea i know in theory i should be talking bout the actual visit with my boys this blog, but i first just had to share this instead....

so saying that

when i was visiting with my boys

they took me to a specialty store

with lots and lots of all the U.K goodies i really miss

of course the prices were bloody extortionate

so i thought sod it ...

why arent i making my own.

sausages cant be that damned difficult after all

can they?

and pork pies ..... hmmmm droooool

and so upon return to texas i set out to find

sausage casing

(yes i am aware what its made of but id rather not think about that, casing sounds so much nicer)

it didnt take too long to realize that asking around the shops for sausage skins, whilst apparently humorous to some of the store owner's, was possibly not the best way to find them

so i decided it was entirely less embarrassing to just order them online

now my latest victim gets nervous about me experimenting

(with food)

 i think the storys about what i used to add to hubbys food might be the reason for this 

so i told him that yea sure id made sausages before...

"but it's been ages since i had stuffed a sausage"

unfortunately i chose to tell him this in the middle of a rather packed store.. much to the amusement of the other customers

so after escaping the giggles and stares of the other shoppers

we picked up the ingredients

SO

the casing arrives a few days later

now its bad enough thinking about what this stuff really is...

but...

when you tip it out of the packet it looks like a giant fucking tapeworm pile ... ewwwwwww

and its all salt encrusted which really doesnt add to its appeal

apparently you have to soak this stuff for half an hour... this should make it at least look better huh

no way

now it just looks like an undulating living worm

and when you touch it ....

it feels like a used condom

ewwwwwww

next part of this rather disgusting process

the stuffing

not having a sausage stuffing machine /device/ implement

(stop giggling)

i rummaged around the house fer an appropriate substitute whilst the casing (yes dammit casing i refuse to acknowledge what it is)  is soaking

a handy bottle of the right diameter

(about 1 and a half inches)

was conscripted and adapted

(ends lopped off unceremoniously)

there now we have a stuffing sleeve/tube/shaft of about 4 inches long

(damnit im not going to tell you again stop giggling)

now to get the casing on to it

O.M.G

so there i am in the kitchen sliding this 10 ft used condom appearing casing onto the sleeve/shaft/tube... using a hand motion that could of been described as erotic had it not been for the 10 ft of used condom that was involved

well thats the worst it could get right?

hell no

10 ft of used condom looking casing threaded on to a 4 inch sleeve/shaft/tube

has the appearance of a certain part of the anatomy from my last hubby were i to kick him out into the snow naked in the middle of winter.

the limp tied off end really does nothing to the whole image 

swallowing down my disgust i grasp the shaft firmly

(stop it)

and grab a hand full of stuffing mix with my free hand

i start ramming it (the stuffing) into the tube, it begins to extrude

now its starting to look like all that hand action gave it a hard on

 this is at least an improvement on the used condom look

after about 6 inches of sausage had emerged

(do i have to send you out of the room)

 i twisted the loose skin/casing

sharply and tightly, i couldnt help but smirk ... it was even more satisfying when i snipped the sausage off from the rest of the skin with a nice pair of sharp sterile scissors

yay my first sausage

i shaped it
(resisting the urge to mould a head onto it)

and then pricked it

(stop sniggering)

and set it aside

several sausages later i had the makings of a meal ;-)

mashed potatoes, bbq beans, lashings of onion gravy

trying desperately to not think on

A what the skin was

and

B the entire damned process of production

it was, in all, a very satisfying feast

it was rather unfortunate timing however when my latest victim decided to get frisky and romantic after the meal

there i was stroking his pride and joy ready for some foreplay 

when... 

i couldnt help but compare it to a sausage in size and shape

although he did, i admit, compare favourable both in size and girth

pushing the days exploits in the kitchen from my mind i attempted to focused on the task at hand

unfortunately

as i grasped him firm in my palm and started to gently, seductively slide my fingers along his shaft

i kept getting flash images of threading the 10 ft used condom onto the shaft....

whilst he was making little moaning sounds of appreciation

i was trying desperately to stifling alternating giggles and thoughts of ewwww

(of the process of sausage stuffing not at his appendage i hasten to add)

well that was my day how was yours?

sausages any one???

the wanderer returns

the wanderer returns

the whole break/holiday was fairly eventful, and very much like a roller coaster.

some good, some bad, some down right scary, and lots and lots of rum

(pretty sure my boys think that i should consider being an alcoholic or something and seemed determined to assist me on that path)

the journey

so the journey there...swallowing down any anti social inclinations and social phobic tendency's i embarked on 21 hours of mildly torturous hell

involving 19 hours of some uncontrolled brat spitting chewing gum over the seat and kicking the back of my seat every 5 mins... i was contemplating on whether any one would notice if i threw the little shit down into the cesspit of the on board restroom and left her in there till the end of the journey...

 but figured nah id better not... was very much relieved when they got (or were possibly were ejected) off the bus...hmmmm ejected now theres a thought.

bizarrely enough, for me, i resisted the urge to pretend to be invisible

and actually did get to talking to some of the fellow passengers during the various stop overs.

there was the usual banter, occasional flirting (always flattering to the ego) and no one appeared to notice the nervous tic im sure i must of developed whilst struggling with the urge to strangle the child sitting behind me

the last two hours of the trip were pleasantly spent in an attempt to see how long i could hold my breath, due to the fact that amongst the next boarding passengers some one evidently allergic to soap, water and toothpaste got on, and of course decided to sit next to me AAAAAAAAAArrRrrrghHhh.... seriously the entire back of the bus was gagging from the stench this person emanated... 

i swear, to any Deity of your choice, their odour was so strong it had its own personality's and really should of required several seats of its very own... it didnt cling to its owner it got up and roamed around on its own, this funk was so strong it was mugging and beating up the rest of the passengers. (throwing this one in the cess pit could only of improved the general stench)

thankfully i had plenty of deodorant

which i liberally sprayed into my hat (ensuring that some over spray went off into their direction) and promptly and discreetly as possible used it as a gas mask

(adopting the pose of the sleeping cowboy, hat over face to block out the light kinda thing)...

at one point they got up for the restroom and i snatched out the deodorant and sprayed it damn near until it was empty all over their chair (much applause from the remaining conscious passengers that had not, as of yet, been knocked out into blissful unconsciousness after being mugged by the odour)

 i had hoped it might counteract the homicidal odour the passenger emitted... i had however erred in my calculations of its strength ... after a brief extreme martial arts match the odour won

and the deodorant ran off whimpering in defeat with its tail between its legs.

and then finally the journey was over i had survived... and there was the shining beam of hope grinning from ear to ear... son number two ... but that, im afraid, my little chickadees is a whole other blog