Sausage Looters! Really?!

Dreams.  Yeah, if you're like me, someone starts telling you about a dream they had, and I start yawning and tune out.  So, if you tune this one out, that's OK by me.


Many of my dreams seem like a random, fractured series of images.  No clear Director, no great plot, no deeper meaning.  I mean, I know there may be deeper, darker meanings, (see Freud & Jung) sometimes a cigar in a tunnel isn't really a cigar or a tunnel, but, finally you are always left with the fact that it was all just a freaking dream.


I used to have dreams that were like bad episodes of Miami Vice.  And I've had those dreams of falling, and of not studying for a big test, and can't find the classroom, and don't know the combination to my locker, and, running around like a chicken with it's head lopped off.


Last night, two words, in big neon letters, were revealed to me. They were presented to me like some major, significant insight. Like some kind of esoteric revelation.  Two words I've never really seen strung together before.


Do they describe a social phenomenon I just haven't heard about yet?  Or is it a new band name?  Or... what...? 


And just what were those two words?


SAUSAGE LOOTERS!