aaron is online

What is the sound of one hand clapping?  I’m not sure, but here’s what it looks like when two fat guys make sausage.

There were more people there than just Isaac and me, and I did far less work than Nathan who is not pictured because he was probably manning his homemade smoker in the backyard.  The one he made out of two 50-gallon drums.  You know, the one next to the garage.  The garage with the home-fucking-brewery inside it!  Yeah, that one.

Last week, Meagan and I drove down to Puyallup to spend the day making sausages and drinking a bunch of VERY good beer, most of which was made by either Isaac or Nathan.  The boys are giving the homemade meat-treats as Christmas gifts to their families this year (who wouldn’t love some some pork on xmas morn’?), and they apparently have Duggar-sized families as we processed roughly 55 pounds of pig with 45 still left for another day!*

We had an awesome time.  Nathan even roasted some lamb and potatoes on his Weber out back for dinner!  Those guys really know how to throw down, and on top of everything, they and their wives are high-quality people!  Meagan & I look forward to more good times with these fine folk.

I also would like to mention: if you fancy yourself a mature person, go ahead and spend 5 minutes making sausage, and I guarantee you will be giggling like Beavis & Butthead before you know what hit you.  There are so many sexual euphemisms involved in every step of the process (“stuff your pork,” “handling your meat,” and “smoking the sausage” are only a few) that you’ll want to call your mother and apologize when your finished.

*SEXY UPDATE: I talked to Isaac yesterday who claims that he & Nathan cranked out another 70 (!) lbs of sausage 2 days ago.  I’ve never even heard of so much meat! These guys really love their sausage…

Like I said, I’m new to this whole “weblogging phenomenon”, and I’m dealing with the issue of what exactly to post.  Should I only write about things that matter, or at least have some gravitas, or is this type of vehicle for the mundane as well (which I know it is, but don’t know whether or not I can take part in what I feel is lowering the bar for all of civilization)?

Maybe I’m thinking too much.  Maybe I should just post something, and let its merits be decided in the grand scheme of things.  Or maybe, it’s my responsibility as the author to try and make the dull interesting.  I don’t know.  So, anyway:

Yesterday afternoon, Meagan and I went to watch the Seahawks game at a bar a few blocks from my house called “Leny’s.”  It’s my new favorite place; it’s my Casa Bonita.  Firstly, it reminds me of Philadelphia (my home culture) in both attitude and clientele.  Some of the patrons were pretty damn salty, and most of them gave the impression that they would have been there, and just as drunk, whether there was a game on or not (but in Seattle, drunkenness doesn’t necessarily equal raging voilence, unlike Philadelphia where “spinach : Popeye :: alcohol : short, insecure Italian men”).  The atmosphere was fun and attentive, which is refreshing for a public sports-viewing in Seattle, as a great deal of the population wouldn’t know the difference between a left guard and a punt returner if they were eaten by one.  But, not at this joint.  Everyone was really into the game, even the bartender who ran around the whole place after every touchdown doling out hi-fives and $1 pints!

Speaking of the beer, it is plentiful and cheap.  Besides the $1 post-touchdown pints, they serve these 33.8 oz, Oktoberfest-style mugs of beer for a whopping $4!  And, the food was good, too!  It was like being back on the east coast at a dive bar that isn’t just called a “dive bar” because they threw some shit up on the wall and don’t clean their floors.  They don’t charge $4.50 for a can of PBR, and they have not one, but 3 totally creepy old guys who stared at my wife the whole game.  A good time was had by all!

Leny’s was authentic.  It was fun, and it was cheap.  I’m sure I’ll head over there next week, and bring some more folks with me.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

BONUS: Here’s a link to a review on Yelp by a guy named Ben.  He compares a Seattle “dive bar” to a dive bar in Detroit.  It’s funny because it’s true.