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.”
501?
“Rodents of unusual size”.
Uh-oh. I am so sorry, TC. For both events. I’ll turn your names in at the the Temple if you would like me to.
Hang in there.
*HUG*
I don’t know what to say.
If you’re at the Temple, we’ll be happy to have everyone’s prayers. I often write FReepers’ concerns in the book that’s presented at Mass ... “Special intention of Username” or “Health concerns of Somebody.”
It’s quite a shock, but there’s some severance pay and COBRA, and he’s eligible for unemployment pay.
This does affect our vacation plans, though!
I said, “Well, bleepin’ freep!” after a minute of stuned silence.
DP is taking care of Sally’s computer issues with Extreme Prejudice right now, and he’ll have his resume out by Monday. With its being Lent, we were going to be doing some self-denial anyhow, but now we have concrete (rather than simply spiritual) motivation.
Good Morning!
Do you have chickens HTB?
Canning chicken requires a pressure cooker, doesn’t it?
You betcha!
How’s the count down coming?
Excited?
Still, that is blargh.
It is blargh, and also dreck. But life is like that sometimes.
Love too.
Imho, of all the freepers I talk to, you and your family are the best equipped to handle a set back. I know that doesn't sound like much now, but you will weather this.
Actually, your whole family amazes me, and it's because of how you and DP have lived, and raised your children.
I'll shut up now. *HUG*
Seems logical to me.
Now, where do I buy one? Or should I get two?
Four, they dig big holes.
Thanks, fanfan. We’re in reasonably good shape financially. I wish we didn’t have the credit card balance (I was planning to wipe that out with this year’s bonus!), but the monthly payment isn’t much. And at least we’re not in Tulsa, like the last time!
Sorry to hear it T-C. Prayers up...
But yeah, October seems like such a long way off right now.
Thanks, D.C.
"Never give up. Never surrender." ;-)
Howdy.
The sun is trying to shine and the temp is creeping up towards 70. There are already blossoms on some of the desert flora.
Even the mulberry trees have buds. Ick. That means green scum on everything for miles around.
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