Tuesday, February 13, 2007


I was hungry enough to eat a horse so I had fillet of horse, of course. Now that meat on or off the hoof's my mane dish. I wish I could buy it everywhere but it's only sold in the USA as fare for horses and dogs but not for us and that's unfair.

You can order horse as people food in foreign lands when in the mood, but not in the USA where pigs knuckles, ears or snout are freely dished out and ham or bacon go great, you know, with polatoes on the side, hash or fried.

Bacon and ham come from the butt, to be crass, I mean the ass. Pickled pig's feet are a treat, toes included, nails and all. Pork sausage can include all parts of swine, washed down with wine or with wine or with a cup of joe (that's coffee. not your brother-in-law, HEE HAW! HEE HAW!)

The only part of pig not served here with a meal is the squeal. That's reserved for the squeaky wheel. They turn horses into glue when their racing days are through and shoot 'em dead, or so it's said. and serve them as salami on good rye bread. But not here. We're stuck on steer.

I bet on this horse to win at the track, Upsin Downs. It didn't come through and wound up in a pot of stew. I took my horse for a ride. It would run but would not trot. I loved that steed, paid a lot, but when it got old it was sold for ten cents on the horse collar dollar.

While on vacation in a foreign nation I told the waiter, "Bring me a fatty patty of equine divine and a glass of swine wine." The waiter laughed Hee Haw and brought me a burger ground from the tongue of my mother-in-law.

But to this day horse for us is a neigh neigh.


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