My Dad’s Ball Sack For Jesus

For the Easter holiday my family convened at my aunt and uncles to dine on some cooked pig, play board games where the end result is global domination and hear my dad tell my brother-in-law to bite his ball sack at the dinner table. Speaking of pigs, my coworker is giving me a few pounds of fresh Polish sausage that her parents are sending her from Chicago. Her and her husband do not dig on the swine so they are giving it to me. I may boil that shit up and slap it on a bun with some sauerkraut and mustard. I may cut it up and throw it in with my scrambled eggs. I may even attempt to flatten it out into strips and fry it. Mmmmmm. Bacon Polish sausage.

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