It's all in the name

Yesterday I got an email out of the blue from my sister, who no doubt was in one of her moods to converse with the world outside of her head.

I had this freaky-ass dream last night where we were both wandering out in the back yard by the garden and I was somehow using a graphics program's "fill" option to color in the soil, then a farmer inexplicably tossed you a bag of shrimp. You then shrieked like a girl, said "cock!", then stopped yourself. You apparently thought the bag of shrimp was a bag of men's wee-wees.

Yeah, America's new snack treat. By Frito-Lay.

Yep, fellas, she's single! Anyhoo, earlier that day at work, I remembered an idea I had for a new food delicacy: donkey dicks. I even had a catchy name that easily lent itself to advertisement: Donkey-Dick-A-Licious.

When I told my sister about Donkey-Dick-A-Licious she suggested I sell them door-to-door so it would be Door-To-Door-Donkey-Dick-A-Licious. So helpful, that woman.

For some reason I'm reminded of something from my childhood. When I was little I thought Vienna sausages looked like little penises. It's no wonder I ended up like I did.