Crankster

Saturday, September 02, 2006

A Total Sausagefest

Okay, this is thematically linked to my last post...

Recently, I have found myself addicted to sopressata, or, as I like to call it, Italian Crack. I'm not to proud to admit that, when faced with the wonderful deliciousness of dried Italian sausage, my defenses crumble and I reach for a knife. As I stand here, holding a candle, I can only hope that, by admitting my addiction, I can make it easier for others to come to terms with their weakness.

There are those who might make unwholesome connections between sopressata and, well, cock. Actually, I'm one of those people. While I must firmly assert that penises hold no attraction for me, my recent sopressata addiction has only cemented my belief that, when searching for a sausage, it is wise to purchase the sausage that most resembles the cock of a seventy-year old Greek man.

As you gaze with wonder upon this picture of sopressata, you will probably find yourself agreeing with me. It looks like...well, the syphilis-ridden love pump of Ari Onassis or, perhaps, Anthony Quinn. On the other hand, you must admit that it looks fairly appetizing as well.

Of course, as we all know, not all sausage looks quite so diseased. For example, consider the prosaic hot dog:



Not quite so appetizing, is it? You might fool yourself into thinking that you're rejecting the hot dog because you dislike Ketchup or poppy seeds, or even because you're simply not into overprocessed meats. However, deep down inside, you need to face the fact that your instinctual hatred of this little slice of pony pecker derives from the fact that it looks like Ashton Kutcher's penis. Enlarged, of course.

Need more convincing? Okay, try this on for size. Here's a picture of Italian dried sausage:


Look upon it. You're getting hungry, aren't you? How does it taste? Salty, rich, and with that delicious seasoning that probably comes from something like "lactic acid starter," but which you will always associate with a smelly Italian deli.

On the other hand, it looks like Mussolini with his pants down.

Now, on the other hand, let's consider one of the most popular meat snacks in the world, the common Vienna sausage:


Given our little conversation here, you're probably feeling like John Wayne Gacy at this point. Yes, these are sausages, and people really do eat them. However, to be honest, you have to wonder about these people. They have to know what they're consuming. They have to know what it looks like. Let's just call this further evidence and yet another reason that you should reject sausages that look like baby penises.

Ready for another good example? Check out this one:


This particular sausage is called "Cotechino," and, while it might look like Uncle Fester's "little Lurch," it is, in fact, a highly delicious Italian sausage. Admittedly, this one stretches the boundaries of my theory, as it looks a little more...anglo than my other examples, yet I feel that the central concept still holds true: Sausage should look like old-man cock.

And here's one final example:



Yes, it's the common "red hot." And, yes, it looks like Bowser's little "red rocket." To be honest, this one seriously offends me when I stumble across it in the grocery store. There's something about the scary crimson color, the salty goo that they pack it in, the fact that the manufacturers don't make the slightest attempt to hide the artificial origins of their product. Added to which, of course, the aforementioned visual similarity to dog cock makes me wonder about how far the factory is from the local pound.

So there you have it. You are, no doubt, wondering about the value of this little rant. Was it just a juvenile attempt to gross you out? I think not. Rather than giggling nervously at some foods, I feel that the time has come to just admit it, announce to the world that we know exactly what we're doing, and find ways to make our little fetishes work for us.

That's my excuse, and I'm sticking with it.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]



<< Home