Don't know why, but an image search of "Vienna kitty" produced this:
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.”
Don't know why, but an image search of "Vienna kitty" produced this:
How come I get the feeling that you were wondering how large an engine could be ensconced/shoehorned within the frame of that vehicle?
Sheesh!
This one hasn’t even cooled down yet.
You mustard get outta here, but mayo? And if you do, can you ketchup? Maybe you just need to chili out a bit (no, not going to do the wurst and call you a brat)! *\;^)
Yup. Hot diggity dog -- but it's also not a ZOT thread. We just appropriated it and Squawk 8888 will be (in)famous for the month of March.
LOL, you Cyber and I could carry that thing off with the occupants inside.
Funny - good writing...
And a good thing, too, because a cat’s not going to run around on a wheel and power the thing the way hamsters would.
Looking at your photo I would probably have to straddle White Cat, move very slow, and pray for the best.
When I was a boy I ran over a bird once (couldn't help it, it flew under my bicycle's front wheel). Not a nice experience.
Unlike LoM who, I guess following in the footsteps of her hunter father, bagged a pheasant with her car.
Three mouse power, and an extra nine volts from the glovebox expansion port.
‘etzat ma’klur
(Yetz ist es mir klar, in Oesterreich)
"No more smokers. Is the next step no more Democrats? So the CEO of a Michigan company announced a no-more-smokers policy. ... If employers seek to control costs, improve morale, boost the company image and reduce workplace drama, why not refuse to hire ... Democrats? Democrats -- compared to Republicans -- on average are less affluent, more unhappy, more prone to anti-social behavior, more prone to self-destructive behavior, and more likely to have been shot at, robbed or burglarized. More of them see X-rated movies, more of them smoke, and they're less likely to be married and more likely to have separated or divorced. ... Poor smokers. Can't smoke in the office, can't smoke on the factory floor, can't smoke in a company car. You can't smoke in a restaurant. You can't go outside, down the street, down the ally or down the manhole. You gotta go three-and-a-half miles, you'll see a Denny's, make a right, if you come to an International House of Pancakes, you've gone too far. But take comfort. Things could be worse. You could be a smoker -- and a Democrat."
-- Larry Elder
Wait, what?
ARRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh... The pain, the pain. Wheel he ever get over the bun of it?
To be frank, I relish the thought.
I am less lucky: Four birds, three deer, two squirrels ... and a surprisingly flattened rabbit back in 1978 while St Ronnie was with me. But most of my hits have had no witnesses.
Had another deer run right into the side !! of the car as I was slowing/braking/swerving to get around him. And I was TRYING to miss him! He STILL hit me!
Deer 1: Harvested via 1990 Geo Metro
Deer 2: Harvested via 1989 VW Golf
Deer 3: Harvested via 1983 Subaru stationwagon.
And several near misses with other vehiles.
Close call on a coyote with a 1995 VW Jetta.
Tagged two robins who were fighting with the 1996 Jetta.
They bounced clean off the windshield.
Got an owl, it flew straight into me and I couldn’t avoid him.
Vehiles??
*groan*
Vehicles.
Typo alert, check your keyboards.
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