I’d Eat It.

Snails, frog legs, pig arseholes and spider legs.

I guess there’s not much else to do with them but to scrub them up, add wet heat, and then chew thoroughly.
When it comes to diets that you mostly…find…then you have to sacrifice your pickiness for the sake of belly-filler being so important.

You there- eat something! It’s largely what we’re here for, so either fuck it (also on the important to-do list) or eat. If you’re going to do both then do it down-stream. That mess will be famous. Especially if it’s a snail.

Cooked snails are rubbery, aside from the personality. In terms of personality- they’re all a great bunch of guys/girls. Not very rubbery.

A rubbery individual is a person/snail that I have not met. Probably. It’s not my duty to meet rubbery people/snails, and that’s about as amusing as this sentence is going to get. Rubbery people/snails. Meet them.

I do like spending time with my pet snail, Greed, who I have not told yet about the eating of his kin. We’re going to buy two dozen and ‘prepare’ them for cooking, which is immediately the cruellest thing you can do to them. First step, access the snails. Second step “lightly sprinkle a fine layer of rock salt over the escargot” (‘escargot’ being French for, I assume: ‘the little shelly-bastards because they fucked my wife too’). This makes them dissolve somewhat which is apparently the only way to prepare them as it makes them evacuate themselves- a thing you can’t really train them to do.

But, seriously, I single-handedly hate emptying snails.

You think there’d be a spoon for that, but it’s all down to fingers and blowing. As usual.

Pig’s areholes are a Soul food delicacy, if you’re hungry enough. From what I read in a Bizarre Magazine article from several years ago- Mr T fled from one once.

You take a pig arsehole. Wipe it (and there’s only one way to do that- think about it. Making the common sign-symbol for ‘dosh’ might give you the right idea) and then fry what’s left of the shit out of it. Then serve it to Mr T and watch him go. I bet he’d even get on a plane.

From what I guess- it’s like a ring of blubbery gum. That you know used to be a pig’s arsehole.

Tarantula legs are probably the only part of them I’d want to eat. Certainly rather than its fangs, or beady little eyes. Or its arsehole (I’m not fond of arseholes- you really only need one in my opinion).

I’m told they’re like chicken and that it is actual meat. That’s really all you need to know- that its contents is not poison slime, nor is it acid- nor a thousand tinnier spider that are trying to occupy your genitals. It is meat.

This- I would totally go for, only I am lacking in the spider leg jar in my larder. Someone help me.

Frog legs taste like chicken. Well- why not eh?

I’d eat a frog’s legs. But it would be interesting to see the side of it by vegetarian politicians that allow a little meat-eating. Maybe they’d just take the one leg from the frog, and then patch it up and leave it to continue its fairly dull life. Perhaps build it an artificial leg out of the left-overs from a meal of frog’s legs. They already hop anyway.

I know it’s cruel to do the rock-salt treatment to these two-dozen garden snails, but if I don’t eat anything for a while then I’ll be hungry and I’m sure it’s acceptable to do these things if you’re hungry.

Poor buggers- may they rest in delicious, rubbery, garlicky-buttery peace.

On toast.

Sam.

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