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| Why the fuck is there a picture of Stras at the top of this post? Looks delectable (cough). Mmmm. Read on. Image |
Brains really are
arseholes.
I guess that explains why I failed
Biology.
Seriously, though, it
doesn’t help me one bit when I try to sleep and my brain decides to write a
comedy routine. An hour-long comedy extravaganza, as it happens.
And a pretty shit one
at that.
It was called Gently
Mental and one day it may appear somewhere other than inside my head.
Or not.
One of the themes from
this questionable comedy classic was how much nature, as well as my brain, is
an arsehole.
Nature has no trouble
with not being nice. It just does what it pleases, lets it all hang out,
without ever fearing judgement.
The natural world has
absolutely no problem at all being a total bastard, and frankly, I’m jealous.
Take a few examples:
- PT Barnum, the arsehole possum (may he rest in peace, wherever he is*)
- The bird that landed on my head
- The lizard who hid in my bag
- The butterfly that wasn’t
- That damn Bongo calf
That wasn’t the last
example of my creative food disposal techniques.
Have you ever eaten
Stras?
Strasbourg is a type of
lunch meat, made from the snouts, ears and bums of various unidentifiable hooved animals,
mixed with sawdust.** It's also called Devon, Fritz, and OH MY GOD IS THAT EVEN FOOD?!
This delightful
combination is mashed together and moulded into a tube. You then slice this tube up and
inflict it on your children in the guise of “Stras sandwiches”. Often served
with tomato sauce.
Stras sandwiches were a
lunch of choice on the camping trips of my childhood.
Safe to say, my hatred
of Stras is only outweighed by my hatred of pickled beetroot.
Me: “What’s that noise?”
Brain: “It’s coming from
under the log. Oh no.”
Me: “Now mum’s looking under there. We’re in
trouble now.”
Brain: “It sounds like
something’s eating under there. Jesus! What kind of moron would voluntarily eat
that crap?”
Me: “It’s a Blue Tongue. No denying it now.”
Brain: “Why not? We could
pretend that Stras occurs spontaneously in nature.”
Me: “Nope, I’m going to confess.”
Brain: “No don’t be a fool!
Shit. You’ve already done it. Idiot.”
It’s quite hard to deny
that you’ve thrown your stras under the log you’re
sitting on, when there’s a massive Blue
Tongue lizard sitting under there chewing on a big slab of the stuff. And not
being quiet about it.
There it was, munching
away, thinking its reptilian
Christmases had all come at once.
A windfall for you,
mate, but pretty damn embarrassing for me. Thanks, bastard.
* Under a pile of rubbish at the Whitehorse Recycling and
Waste Centre, I suspect. I know, I’m going to hell.
** I have no idea what’s really in Stras. Please don't tell me.
Have you ever caught nature being an arsehole?
