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If the apocalypse happens in my lifetime, I am screwed.
I accept this. I’m not going to make any grand efforts to fight our new alien overlords, or even much in way of basic survival. Change requires adaptability, and Gay Panda does not possess an adaptable nature. I am one of the many millions who will be winnowed out in the Ultimate Darwin Championship, and this is all right. Hardier generations of humans will push forth into a murky future, and I will cheer them on from a heavenly cloud while eating an endless supply of nachos since I no longer have to worry about my weight.*
But it occurred to me just how screwed I was in case of an apocalypse at Whole Foods over the weekend. I was whining about shopping and Lady Friend was whining about shopping, so we decided that we should shop together and combine our whines into a chorus. She pushed the cart, since February has so far visited me with the following:
1. A cold, which lingers on to infinity
2. Food poisoning
3. A 96-hour intestinal bout of WTF?!
I am understandably reluctant to touch a germy cart handle. So she did the honors because her immunity remains unfazed in the face of the most threatening illnesses. Once at the butcher, we discovered a shocking pork shortage had struck the Magical Bamboo Forest. We stood there gaping at the empty metal trays, wondering what had happened to all the pigs of the world, and then the butcher rushed to assure us that they had not vanished. They simply had not been dissembled yet into tray form. Behind her, a man with a lot of facial hair was running some gigantic part of a pig through a table saw. The whine made my nerves stand on end. Then the slab was brought to a table, and a truly vicious knife was hefted to make the slab into pork chops.
This is how pork chops are made. I had no idea. I’ve never actually seen it happen. I don’t think about these things, because I have the luxury of not thinking about these things. But if the day ever comes where that luxury is gone, I am screwed. Should I be starving and a dead pig land in my lap, I would have no clue how to extract the chops from it. People who know are going to be a resource in the post-apocalyptic age, and those of us who in our previous lives sat at a computer writing about imaginary wonders will be of no use at all.
But should you be one of those humans desperate to live, determined to brace yourselves with protein and fight the aliens while I eat nachos and watch, befriend a Whole Foods butcher today. It’s never too early to plan for the apocalypse, and that butcher might have a waiting list for friends right in his or her breast pocket for you to sign your name. Don’t wait. And good luck.
To hell with cutting pork chops! Just chop it up into managable pieces and make pulled pork outta that beast! DH and FIL just did this very thing yesterday for a party we're having this weekend. Friend donated pig, FIL killed it, then FIL and DH chopped it into pieces small enough to fit into a roaster and now he (the pig was a Rocky Mountain Oyster-less he) is slow cooking into mouth watering deliciousness in 3 different 6 gallon roasters!
Primal since March 5, 2012
SW: 221 | CW: 204 | LPW: 166 | UGW: 140 (80 lbs loss)
If I had untold riches and no social conscience, I would have cloned Primal Coach Kitty. I would love an entire litter of pudgy, dim-witted tabby-and-whites running around the house after Benign Poltergeist, their froggy little voices raised in battle cries. "WAO-WAAAOO-WAAAAOOOOOOOO!"
Of course, I wouldn't love this at two in the morning. But she was one of a kind.
Okay, if we're sharing pics of cute kittehs, here is my contribution (assuming I can make this link thingy work...):
WANNA HUG SICK PANDA!
I am allergic to cats, like snot, drool, eyes swell shut and itch so bad I want to rip them out of my head with my own ragged fingernails even hours after taking the medication allergic... (which is why Panda NEEDS one, so that I can live vicariously! )... but that one can totes HUG ME!
“You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.”
And that's why I'm here eating HFLC Primal/Paleo.