You can blame that on Charming Calvin. His legendary appraisal and sonnets to the beauty of pork should already be bound into a meat bible for sure. No doubt a mission that would terrify our kosher friend, Lickable Luke.
So Luke, you'd better look away from this pork-laced heresy!
But I digress. Back to the meat. So this afternoon I actually met up with Beercan Boy and his missus Damsel Dimwit for lunch.
Well not exactly his missus but close. At least she hasn't dumped him for something better as we predicted. Sometimes miracles really do happen.
Time for some pork?
Since the fastidious Damsel claimed to be suffering from serious hunger pangs, we gave her the pick and she chose - surprisingly - an orgiastic meat feast. Shocked me even more when she ordered a whole thick slab of pig flesh. Certainly gave me a better opinion of the gal since I always imagined she survived by munching on dew-moistened alfalfa sprouts as a source of energy.
Then she sacrificed half her hog.
Paul : Is it too tough?
Damsel : No, it tastes good.
Paul : You just sliced three quarters away.
Damsel : Oh I can't take that. It's fatty. And that oil. Urgh.
Paul : It's pork.
Damsel : Ooh but it's so fatty.
Paul : That's the point. The beauty of pork is that thick gelatinous layer of cholesterol-laden fat dripping with oil.
I think she almost choked.
I know I shouldn't be this mean to the simple forest animals but I can't help it sometimes. At least I didn't give in to my sadistic urge to stuff the slice of pork into her mouth.
Seriously. Why order pork then? Stick to green grass and lean chicken, ya anorexic socialite! Taking the pork but hating the fat? That's kinda like undecided folks who whine over low-fat ice-cream and decaffeinated coffee. What's up with that? You wanna sin, you take the entire blazing pathway to hell dammit.
The pig died for you. Show some respect!
Of course our Beercan Boy was too busy forcefeeding himself at the trough to offer an opinion.