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.”
Thanks, I can’t right now. Stressing out were to bury her. We have 5ft of snow now, will until June.
Aww geez, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.
*HUGS*
Sorry to hear that!
Her son had been back here three weeks already!
Yes. In this case the text was dated 3/1
They were the cutest little eggs.
Our big old german shepherd (RIP) used to love them!
;)
That’s a relief!
So, can you let us know before the next time?
Ah, the famous “skin sloughing off” poison ivy reaction.
One reason I try to avoid the stuff.
You will grieve, you will be down, but you will also remember the funny things the barking fur person did while she was a part of your life.
Take this moment in time to recall the silly stuff the dog did, those memories are always the best.
Condolences on the loss of Tasha.
February 2001 I did a sketch that showed lower Manhatten engulfed in smoke and damage.
It was a strong impression from out of nowhere, and I drew it to get it out of my head.
Dated the sketch, and then forgot it.
Until that September.
Been tempted to get rid of the sketch because it was so creepy.
Apparently there are things even Darks finds creepy.
Who knew?
Thank You.
Welcome.
We had a fur beast named “Tiny” who was a husky/hound mix.
She saw the cats sitting in a half circle on the table, and she seemed to figure she was needed in the conversation going on.
So she got up on the table with the cats, sat down, and started wagging her tail while making weird motions with her nose.
It looked like a conversation.
The cats, for their part, didn’t freak out over this but they did look at Tiny like she’d lost her mind.
Tiny looked like she’d said, “Aren’t we glad we’re all cats, right?”
Old age and senility got her.
Yes, there are things I find creepy.
I knew my stepdaughter was going to die.
I saw it in a dream, and woke up the next morning to the reality.
Worse, the dream included the flak I got for being at the funeral.
So it wasn’t a surprise when my former Captain tried to punish me for being at the funeral.
But that didn’t lessen the slp in the face that it was.
Keep it!
Keep it! Really!!!
Scan it and send me a copy?
I’ll scan it.
But it is pretty creepy.
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