Posted on 02/26/2011 1:38:34 PM PST by Squawk 8888
I’m not the wiener peeler, I’m the wiener peeler’s son, And I’m only peeling wieners, ‘Til the wiener peeler comes.
I apologize to pheasant pluckers’ sons everywhere for stealing their tongue-twister.
But who can resist when my Internet fairy, Irene, drops this job ad on my desk? “Get out your resume,” she purrs.
I pause in processing Moonlight Lady submissions, and take a boo.
“Full-time Wiener Peeler,” says the ad.
Wazzat? I ask. A red-hot stripper?
“No. As in weenie. It’s got you written all over it, ” says Irene, and she flutters off.
Well, I’m getting sick of grinding out daily columns like hamburger. So I read on.
“Opportunity. Excitement. Teamwork. Respect.
“At Maple Leaf Foods we are committed to attracting, rewarding and retaining talented people who are passionate about making a positive impact in their professional and personal lives every day.”
A noble mission. What better way to pursue it than as a bona fide full-time professional wiener peeler. The opening is at Maple Leafs’ hotdog plant in Hamilton.
Imagine the awe when you tell fellow partiers your occupation.
Picture the lineup of schools recruiting for career days.
The teachers may giggle, but the kids will scream for free samples.
You’re on Price Is Right and Drew Carey says, “What d’ya do for a living up in Canada, Mikey?”
I peel wieners, Drew.
“Good for you. Wiener peeler. Hmmm. reminds me, folks, get your pets spayed or neutered.”
Anyway, I check around and find yet another job opening at Maple Leaf. Wiener stuffer. Hit it ...
I’m not the wiener stuffer
I’m the wiener stuffer’s son
I’m only stuffing ...
(Ed. note: Stop that, you hotdogger, or we’ll make you pose for a picture like Gilles Duceppe in the silly hairnet.)
NO! Not that! I’ll do anything, boss.
The photo of Duceppe in a cheese factory was a body blow to the Bloc. He looked like a weenie. Un chien chaud. Un hotdog.
I wonder. How do wiener peelers and stuffers look? All dressed?
I call Linda Smith at Maple Leaf Foods and ask: What company wit came up with those job titles?
“They’re in the union contract,” she says. “They’re really a kind of food-processing operator.”
So machines do the actual stuffing and peeling. Thank God. I can’t imagine sitting there all day, fingers numb, going, “hundred thousand and one weenies, hundred thousand and two weenies, hundred thousand and ...”
The wiener stuffer fills the tubular collagen casings with hot dog sludge. Since you asked, the ooze typically comprises mechanically separated chicken, pork, beef, water, wheat gluten, salt, sodium phosphate, spice, dextrose, corn syrup solids, sodium erythorbate, garlic powder, onion powder, sodium nitrite and smoke.
If you need to ask what mechanically separated chicken is, don’t.
Or go eat a veggie burger.
Once the dogs have been divided and smoked and solidified, the wiener peeler removes the casings.
The stuffer and peeler look like hazmat officials or Apollo astronauts.
They wear blue rubber and plastic head to toe, with hairnet, hardhats and mask. Plus earmuffs. Yes. All those dogs barking.
The hirings, says Smith, are to gear up for summer, when 60% of wieners are sold.
What a great job, eh?
I assume you get to take home any bent, twisted or otherwise defective wieners.
And you’d be in the pantheon of careers with chicken sexer, pet food tester, bounty hunter, odor reader, fortune cookie writer, golf ball diver and newspaper hack.
Plus, you’re wrapped in a soft, warm union. The Brotherhood of Bun Fillers (BBF), or whatever it’s called.
I can picture the negotiations:
“We want a raise, a longer lunch, three weeks holiday, dental coverage and pension improvements.
“But hold the mustard.”
I don’t think Bill and Tom need any clothes right now, although Tom will need a pair of real dress pants for his Confirmation in June. No point in getting them now ... he’ll be taller!
I found a “Battleship North Carolina” t-shirt for me and an NRA shirt for Elen in Bill’s dresser. He said they were too small for him.
DP says the interview in his Real Suit (free of dog-schnozzes and baby-dribbles) went very well.
Good. :-)
Maybe I'll go down to the lobby per the "tradition" some of us are trying to bring to the group -- you want to go out with a group to dinner, meet in the lobby at 6:30. OTOH, the only ones at all likely to be here are the few other West Coasters, and they're probably still in transit.
Can't get to work email from hotel. Forgot about that from last summer. Oh well.
You should be here instead of LV. It's slightly humid but at the high end of comfortably warm (for me), sunny if hazy. I think you'd be comfortable in the sun (me, I'm sticking to shade *\;^).
Happy Norooz! (Persian New Year & first day of spring.)
A billion Betas sounds like an awful lot to test. When do we get to the release version?
Happy Norooz to you too, Sion!
How is it pronounced?
It depends how hungry the big fish are.
Funny how the guys’ t-ahirts seem to look better on us...
Prayers are still going up for DP. (And the rest of you, of course!)
Nyuk-nyuk...
The sun is shining brightly, now, but it is still cold out, and the wind has blown my front door open twice and nearly scared my little self.
I wasn’t impressed with Atlanta’s weather. I don’t do well in humidity. It’s tougher to deal with as I age.
You are so funny!
Good thing that humans don’t have internal time clocks, or you would be messed up...Oh wait.
“No Rooes” (Allowed — only wallabies.)
I wasn’t talking about Atlanta overall, just right now.
But now I am going to go downstairs and see if anyone else is here.
I’m going to go crawl in the sack with a good book. I earned my keep today.
Later, y’all.
Good night to all! I need to find Frank’s comb, and then comb his hair, and then take a shower, and etc., etc.
Oh, dear. Bill is having a Spasm. It sounds like some brother is scampering around upstairs nekkid again.
Sis would likely not want her Fish of Warding to exhaust himself.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AhlCZgvW1dc
A sorta sad song, for the rabbitoids.
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