And I mean it...
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.”
*HUG* to Elen! Insect stings/bites are not my favorite cup of tea, either! I hope it’s something that doesn’t resist treatment.
Nope. Shrove Tuesday.
Ah. So it is. ;o]
...or a penguin.
And I'm probably not the only one who misses Opus.
SUV front-ends are imminently more smashable than in years past. Many people owe their lives to this reality, and many body shops their growing profitability.
The deer remain unhappy, and the insurance agents are mum.
LOL. Had to scare a deer off the road heading home yesterday. But it wasn’t very scared.
Radiation Rock- The Flametrick Subs
Well the steady click click clickin’ of the Geiger counter
And your lead skin suit with all the perfume and powder
The cats started rockin’ when the band played louder
So I grabbed your arm and said, “It’s never or now dear!”
Chorus:
Let’s rock! The radiation rock
Keep jumpin’ up and down to the atomic clock
Aw don’t you get tired ‘cause it never stops
Let’s all glow crazy do the radiation rock
Like the needle on the meter you gotta wiggle just a little
Bathe in the radiation while you’re gyrating your middle
Yeah hop across the floor like a horned-toad on a griddle
The steps to this here mambo are a scientific riddle
Chorus:
Let’s rock! The radiation rock
Keep jumpin’ up and down on the atomic clock
Look at Marie Curie dance with Mr. Spock
They’ll all go crazy doin’ the radiation rock
Chorus:
Yeah let’s rock! The radiation rock
Keep goin’ goin’ goin’ don’t you ever stop
The doctor said it’s deadly but I think that’s a crock
Let’s all go crazy do the radiation rock
Only if you’ll be my partner! LOL!
Thanks! I needed that!
And I mean it...
Dr. Barbara says it’s a staph infection, but probably not MRSA. We got prescription antibiotic ointment for it.
Wellthatsux. I hope it clears up fast!
Thanks for letting me know!
Ok... Now we're on the right track.
Only a minor drag, as such things go. She won’t be able to go swimming until it’s cleared up, so it’s a good thing swim team hasn’t started.
My only problem with your post is the webfilter at my office; some infernal “websense” monstrosity that just doesn’t know when to quit.
You’re dead-on again, DC!
(Er...)
Capybara.
They’re BIG guinea pigs, about the size of a small dog.
Staying in the office late because the church is nearby and we have 5:30 Evening Prayer followed by Shrove Tuesday Pancake Supper. I always come away from that feeling a bit ill — an early start on Lent, I guess.
Lay off the pancakes and syrup...stick with eggs, sausage and bacon. Shrove Tuesday will take on a whole new meaning!
Ain't it funny how that works... :-)
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.