sausage party (intro)

I live in the perpetual sausage party…
Nothing says Friday night like the case of coronas and a jacuzzi full of my boys, young-lonely bucks teeming with unsapped energy and unsatisfied intimacy. After the homoerotic interlude of crass-jokes, complaints of work, cries out to God and whatever else falls in between, there are certain subjects that come up regularly. This series is my attempt to put the wise words of the most inexperienced, bitter, emotionally-troubled ragamuffins onto paper; cause deep down, every guy doesn’t know jack about what he’s talking about and is too scared to show it.

The sausage party continues…