He put me in a room next to his sons, Ethan (born June 1982) and Frank (born October 1983), so I saw them shirtless and in their underwear often, and had several sausage sightings over the years (of course, I only count the ones that happened after they turned 18, when their penises were fully matured).
But his youngest son, Joel (born April 1986), had a room on the other side of the house (actually two houses crammed together), so I rarely saw him at all.
Rock Island, June 2004
When I visited Rock Island in the summer of 2004, Joel was the only nephew still living with Kenny: an eighteen year old punk rocker with a scarlet mohawk, a pierced lip, and several tattoos. Nice smooth chest, though, washboard abs, thick biceps, more buffed than emo.
I saw him perform with his group, the Dead Eunuchs: five guys with scarlet mohawks, all in their late teens and early 20s. They did a lot of crotch-grabbing and pretending to lick each other, with lines like "push your cock against my balls" and "everybody is queer."
Quite a penis fixation! Now I definitely wanted a sausage sighting!
But my brother still put me in the small room next to Frank and Ethan's old room. I could hardly walk all the way down the hall, go down the stairs, cross the kitchen, and walk down another hall to burst into Joel's bathroom.
There are only two other foolproof ways to get a sausage sighting:
1. Invite him to go swimming or to the gym, where he'll have to strip down, and you can sneak a peek.
I invited Joel to work out with me and my friend Dick, a very buffed ex-bully, at the YMCA. But he came with his gym clothes on beneath his leather jacket, so he wouldn't have to shower or change clothes there.
2. Have sex with him.
The full story, with nude photos and sexual content, is on Tales of West Hollywood