Could you kill your own meat?

That 's Goodwin 's job





David

"Get that oyster Archie !!"

They you're no longer bonnie and blythe, goood and gay, then, are you?

Didn't say I would intercept a poor little lemming and murder it, did I?

How do you whip a lemming into a meringue?

Oscillate its tit a lot?


Damn, no...that's ocelots.

I dunno; Cool Whip ?

You strip the little fellow of its meat. Not even necessary to kill it if you are not wanting a large pie. Just take enough to slice very thinly over the inside of the crust. You put the actual meringue on top of that, silly.

Oh, of course. That makes perfect sense.



I was starting to wonder if perhaps you just fattened them up and used the livers -- but if that was the case, I would expect more French in the name than just "meringue"...

No, I couldn't kill my own meat but I sure can beat it to death!

im a vegiterian and i think that what people do to animals is disgusting, but i think if people killed theyre own meat and usd all the parts,didnt mass produse meat, didnt keep animals in horrible conditons and practicly torture them, then i would probably eat meat because its not so much cruel

I 'd not be good qua the stalking; I 'm not much of a hiker.

I have on many occasions killed lobsters not because they are evil looking but because their meat is delicious and they're fun to cook.

lemming meringue pie. I just got it.Took me four years.

I'm surprised i missed this thread the first time 'round. There's a lot of silliness here. I can't design a car, fabicate the parts and assemble them, and i doubt that anyone else here can. I don't know of anyone who suggests that we should. I could kill a steer, but why would i? Leaving aside that i can buy the beef at the market, i can't eat beef, plugs me right up, always has. Hamburgers, now, or meat loaf, no problem. I can't do steak. I've killed and eaten squirrel and rabbits, although it's been nearly 50 years now. Fish, no problem. My grandmother was happy to cook and help eat fish, but she would not clean them. She would not clean the ones she caught herself, and she was an avid fisherwoman. She had not problem with the chickens and geese my grandfather would kill.

A friend of mine had a girl friend for a while who was crazy about pigs. So, being a country boy, he went out and got a good deal on a shoat, and brought it home (he lived on the edge of a small town, and had a barn on the property). Well, it wasn't actual honest to dog pigs that interested her, just cute pictures of little pink piggies. She named the pig Byron, helped erect a pen in the barn, and never went near the critter again.

After they broke up, we were sitting on the back porch one evening, when he suddenly got a look on his face like the guy in the cartoons with a light bulb over his head, and asked what i thought of the idea of fresh pork ribs for a small party we were giving that weekend. I said it sounded good to me, so he suggested i come by about noon. When i arrived, we tossed a coin, and i won (or lost, according to how you look at it). We went out to the barn, and he trapped Byron's head between two two-by-fours in his pen, and then stroked him for a while to calm him down. Then i hit the sucker right between the eyes with a sledge hammer. Fortunately, i hit plumb the first time. Byron proved a better, more intersting friend in death than he had in life.

Rasing your own potatoes is hard, hard work, backbreaking stoop labor to dig them up. I love popcorn and we grew our own, but shelling popcorn will leave your hands raw no matter how much experience you have. Picking wild blackberries is hard, sweaty hot work (you have to wear long pants and a long sleeve shirt because of the chiggers and ticks)--but they're worth it. There's no kind of food producing you can do that is not hard work, and at one or more stages in the process is not intensely unpleasant. Why shoul meat be the subject of special anguish?

It's hard to eat meat that won't be still. It has to die first and that's a fact.

consider the clam on the half shell. It is neither dead, nor fully clothed. It is consumed in its nakedness, unable to exclaim its revulsion and horror at the concept of being bitten in half and swallowed.

Hmmph. I must have voted myself down . I cannot fathom all these dam buttons and keys. Im like the man with the hand that kills by itself.

I see you more as the one the munsters had.

lived in a box...

was that cousin "It"?