Yesterday I mentioned the Arkansas Chicken Ranch Cannibal episode of the X-files to a coworker, along with how an all-American blonde whose name I've forgotten, in the International Sales Department, was creeped out by the explanation of Creutzfeldt–Jakob in New Guinea, years ago.
The blonde had never heard of it, and couldn't digest the info.
I was a weirdo who read too much.
I remarked that many people describe human flesh as being just like pork.
The suspicious question was, of course, how they knew.
This was in a discussion just before she went to lunch.
She came back from lunch to impart the data that no, it doesn't, it's more like chicken, and some cuts can be prepared just like the Sunday Roast. She had been reading up on cannibal cooking during her break. Avidly.
I applaud her investigative zeal. These are good things to know.
And probably especially useful in the case of a zombie apocalypse.
My folks never did a "Sunday Roast", it wasn't a custom of ours.
Sunday chicken neither. That's sort of a Southern thing, really.
Well in either case, it tastes just like human flesh, and all things considered one would rather sit down with a nice piece of pork and some veggies than Jeffrey Dahmer and a plate of boneless nuggets every week.
It's surprising how many cannibals have been institutionalized over the years in America. Many of them are from interior states, where people are more inbred and religious. That's probably not a coincidence.
It's all that damned lutefisk.
Or grits at every meal.
Scarred for life.
Happy Sunday.
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