The Dancing Sausage Web Journal

Subject: I laughed until tears came to my eyes

(which wasn’t too much of a stretch, seeing as it’s one of those
perma-tear days at my house… I screamed myself hoarse at my afterschool
class of third-graders today, and then actually burst into tears in front
of them. you know there’s no going back when that happens. they’re
probably delighted. their new goal will be to make teacher cry everyday. i
know in some circles this is a mark of pride, making a teacher break down.
I want to only teach little nerdlings from now on, people like us who
actually LIKED reading books when we were done with our homework. There’s
nothing I can do for or to these kids. I have no positive reinforcements
to give them, and likewise I don’t have any way to punish them, seeing as
the program is– how shall we say — “ad hoc,” so I don’t know if I can
threaten to take away recess time, and I don’t know what homework they’re
supposed to be doing, and they won’t even sit down when I tell them to, so I can’t make them put their heads down on their desks. I don’t want to tell kids what they can’t do anymore. I don’t want to be a police officer.
This fucking sucks. I want to show kids cool anagrams and science
experiments and weird historical facts about their neighborhoods. however,
there is no room for this in a public school, and if there was, the kids
would run screaming away from it. whoa. ok. enough rant.)

anyway, the band names really tickled me. My mother always favored “The
Pinhead Angels.” Please, please tell me what “Potato Famine: A Journal of
Vegetable Youth” was going to be about?!

Myself, after reading the “Griffin and Sabine” trilogy, I had planned to
play a nasty trick on a paranoid ex-boyfriend of mine by
sending him letters which were to appear as if they’d been written by the
members of a huge travelling jam band called A Cast Of Thousands. Each
letter would be addressed to him but written as if he was a married
34-year-old man (he was 15 at the time) who the writer knew intimately. I made up cafes and opening acts and was even game to try forging bar
coasters and other restaurant memorabilia…

I’m not really sure how I got this insane creative juice from G&S.
Especially the part about it being intended to freak out my ex. He thought
Nazis were after him and once accosted a doorman under this delusion.
Freaking him out was probably not the best idea. didn’t really matter,
though; I neve sent postcard one. I lost momentum trying to figure out how
to get the letters to be addressed from places all over the country.

ay, such a frustrating day. I spent all evening trying to bring a Mac
Classic and an SE back from the dead. see my spear, here I am: Quixote…