Posted on 02/26/2011 1:38:34 PM PST by Squawk 8888
Im not the wiener peeler, Im the wiener peelers son, And Im 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. Its got you written all over it, says Irene, and she flutters off.
Well, Im 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.
Youre on Price Is Right and Drew Carey says, What dya 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 ...
Im not the wiener stuffer
Im the wiener stuffers son
Im only stuffing ...
(Ed. note: Stop that, you hotdogger, or well make you pose for a picture like Gilles Duceppe in the silly hairnet.)
NO! Not that! Ill 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?
Theyre in the union contract, she says. Theyre really a kind of food-processing operator.
So machines do the actual stuffing and peeling. Thank God. I cant 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, dont.
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 youd 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, youre wrapped in a soft, warm union. The Brotherhood of Bun Fillers (BBF), or whatever its 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.
Good morning. Rain today. It’s supposed to clear tomorrow so I’ll get out on the patio and get busy, after I get back from the doctor.
I’m still very tired and still have the chills. I don’t know about the nausea because I haven’t eaten, yet, but I know one thing for sure: I haven’t been this sick in four years. :o[
Good morning. I’m sorry you’re still poorly. We’re having our usual struggle to get the children dressed in anything that doesn’t look like yard-sale freebies - “Since nobody would buy this, even for a quarter ...” - and that’s with Bill and Tom not here!
I have to work again.
That stinks. What time (in your time zone) should I phone you to get your bank information? And did you get a food box from your grandmother? You should email her and say thanks!
Thanks. I shouldn’t complain because I’m alive.
Cool one today. Dry, but might get up to 50.
Was afraid of oversleeping so I set an alarm, but got sufficient sleep and was up in time. Already checked in my for flight tomorrow; a few minutes' packing and I'm ready to go.
LoM comes home late this afternoon.
I thought it felt chill. Thin rime of frost out there.
Hey, you can complain because we’re here ;-).
Won't be for long, though. Time to get ready for church... then go.
Thanks again, but I keep thinking if I complain too much too often, I’ll be personna non grata and have to assume the fetal position, turn my mattress pad up to 9 and suck my thumb while hugging my blannie.
I’ll try not to complain so often. It’s just a relapse of CFIDS, and will eventually become a remission. There’s just nothing I can do in the meantime. :o|
Yes, the betta does his threat display at things he finds interesting enough to investigate.
He usually hides out in the shady back of his tank, hovering just out of sight, waiting for something to move close enough for him to come charging out at.
Red walls, your fish would be rather amused.
What do you have in the tank with your betta?
Fish fish has in his aquatic domain a plant, a heater, and his filter intake.
He hides behind the plant just to the left of teh heater out of sight.
No other fish? No snail? (cleaner) No crab? (bottom feeder)
I suspended my phone in preperation for getting underway, just in case it actually happens.
Email me. CG systems are secure enough to not worry about it.
You email me - I need your checking account number and your routing number. That’s the other number on the bottom of your check. Or I could have your Federal refund mailed to you here and deposit it in your account, I suppose. I’ll pay your $9 or so to North Carolina.
Make sure you get online with USAA and let them know they can’t telephone you. And email your grandmother!
Speaking of grandmothers, Betty broke her pelvis in a fall on Friday night. She’s going to be laid up for quite a while, so keep her in prayer.
And I got a letter from Lorna, she says hey. She’s learned to rebuild and repair electric motors for a new career. I’ll send her your address, maybe you’ll get a note while you’re at sea.
Home again. Alarm sounds in 12 hours to start my journey. Taking care of a little work business before I turn to final packing.
Hello yourself. Adding to your list of languages, I see.
(Although I'm not sure that's authentic American Indian lingo.)
It's finally dark enough here that I can stop doing yardwork. I've already taken my aspirins.
Now back to my reading. (Now that it's dark. Who says there's not a bright side to the nuclear troubles in Japan? How else would I have glow-in-the-dark books?)
I get the feeling that Fish Fish would try to devour anything that came within biting distance.
He already tried to eat my index finger.
If he were the size of an Oscar, I’d be missing my hand.
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