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 went to the gym. ‘Face texted me - her computer has a virus. She should get it back, working, in a couple of days. It’s not my fault.
Arrrrrgh!
That stinks.
Well, it’s not your fault either.
Yes it is, I posted a story fragment at #1198!
Guaranteed that people I pinged won’t be able to read it or hear the music for the scene.
[Deftones “Minerva” specifically.]
I’ll read it with the musical background after supper.
Well, how crazed do you think the one character is?
There's a fine distinction between mania and genius.
And frequently, there just isn't time for the "Pinky, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" schtick.
Well, I don’t know how inspired or genius teleFRAGging a star is, but it would work.
Happy 20th Seaman Anoreth!
Please keep me on this ping list TC.
Have you heard from Face?
Congratulations Cold One! I hear they are great and loyal dogs.
Kanawa has 'it' bulls too. ;-)
They eat steak sauce off his face, and defend him from bears.
Got any links Kanawa?
I see your post. Ignore the question above.
I’m so sorry Darks.
He knows sit and lay down not his name yet.
It hurts, of course, Tristan is going nuts trying to figure out where Kearen went.
Shannon was confused when Wednesday left us, too. They get used to another cat around, even an obnoxious one.
Good story, very appropriate theme music, although I can’t tell what they’re saying. Bill just turned up and mumbled about it.
I wish I could do animation, it would suit many of these stories well.
My sisters cat Shadow kept looking for my previous cat for years.
Something I haven’t expanded on in that tale yet was that the medical spiders were named after the Pleiades, so Eva would really be Maia.
Electra, Taygete, Alcyone, Celaeno, Sterope, and Merope sit in storage having never been activated since Eva went SLAVER on everyone.
My medicomps were from a different story in another part of the Galaxy, but I never named any of them.
Sensibly, the reason I didn't name them is because they weren't mobile.
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