Archive for Eating

The Power Of The Jesus Spoon

Posted in Things Rank And Gross In Nature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 2, 2008 by Buck Frain

When I was three years old there was a strange boy who lived over the road from us. He was only a year older than me but to me at three, he at four seemed huge. His name was Danny, he had red hair, freckles and smelt a bit funny. He was also very strong. I think it must have been summer, I remember it as being hot, I remember the sound of cicadas and that we both wore t-shirts and shorts.

 

The thing that set Danny apart from anyone else was that he always carried with him a tarnished old silver teaspoon with a Christ-like figure on the handle. The photo above is a spoon I found in an antique shop a few years ago, it’s identical to the one Danny used to carry. The antique dealer told me that they came in sets of twelve and depicted the twelve apostles. To me, however, it was always The Jesus Spoon.

 

I don’t remember Danny and I being friends as such or ever playing together. I do remember being over at his house once. We were in his front yard one afternoon and he had his Jesus Spoon. He led me over to a big piece of dog shit on the lawn and we looked at it for a while. It was quite fresh and probably came from his dad’s dog, Brutus, a German Shepherd that scared the absolute piss out of me even from across the road.

 

Danny dug a scoop of shit out of the glossy turd on the lawn with The Jesus Spoon. If not for the odour it could have been a scoop of chocolate mousse. I watched with fascination as he turned the spoon and put it into his mouth poo-side down and drew it back out clean. He moved the shit around in his mouth and swallowed. From his mouth movements it looked as though some of it had stuck to the roof of his mouth like peanut butter. The thing that amazed me was that he did it and didn’t appear to be suffering. How did it work?

 

He dug out another scoop and offered it to me:

 

Try some. It’s nice.

 

I was unconvinced.

 

No thanks

 

Really? It’s really good.

 

He put the second spoonful of dog shit in his mouth and ate it. It was quite a trick. I couldn’t work out how it worked. Was it the spoon? Did The Jesus Spoon have some magical power over the poo that made it taste like something wonderful? He really was enjoying eating it and it really was poo. This was a very interesting day.

 

He went for a third scoop and offered it to me again. I was starting to feel a bit of pressure, he was 2-0 up on me and I knew that, if push came to shove, he could probably force me to eat it if he chose to.

 

C’mon, try it, it’s really good.

 

Hmm. No thanks. (pause) I’ve seen where it comes from.

 

There, I’d said it. I wasn’t going to be fooled, but how would Danny react? He stood looking at me, spoonful of dog shit in his hand. He looked right into my eyes, taking me in, looking for some sort of clue as to what was going on in my three year old mind. I knew I couldn’t run, he’d catch me easily and force-feed me poo, I just had to stand there and wait.

 

Too bad.

 

He just shrugged and stuck the third spoonful into his mouth and smiled a big gleeful poo-smile. He swallowed it and for a moment I wondered if maybe I really was missing out on something. Only for a moment though, I saw my cue and went home.

 

See ya, Danny.

 

Danny and I never became friends. Our differing views on munching dog turds set us apart. Plus, I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t try and force me to eat the poo one day. He never did, but a few days later he came over to my house and ate some of my dog’s poo.

 

This is my earliest memory and it still haunts me a little to this day. I suppose that’s why I bought a Jesus Spoon and put it on my wall.

Winning The War On Bones.

Posted in Things Rank And Gross In Nature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 28, 2008 by Buck Frain

We win! Australia, the little battler, has won – against insurmountable odds we fought hard to be leading the world in obesity! Yeah, We’re the fattest cunts in the world! Fuck you, USA, you can eat our convict shit, we’re fatter than you bastards! 26% of all Aussies are obese, that’s four million of us – a 33% rise in obesity in the last nine years. Fat Aussies have been gorging their pie-holes for the last nine years to top the USA’s puny 25% obesity rate. Yeah, they’ve got more fatties in total, but per capita we have the most cottage-cheese-arsed, cankled, wheezing behemoths of any nation on the planet! 

 

Doesn’t anybody find any of this remotely offensive? I don’t mean my ruthless attack on the fatties, I mean isn’t anyone offended by the rampant epidemic of bloatedness? We see it everywhere. My two bosses, The Wobblers, are both horrendously obese shit-sacks. Many of the people in the building I work in have Office Body*, you only have to walk down the street to realise that most people are packing some weight, thin people are a serious minority. 

 

But we’re all polite about it – everyone knows the pain of the fatty, Oprah’s made us oh-so aware of the torture it is to be fat. No one wants to point out to their friends or co-workers Hey, you’re becoming a bit of a chunk, should you be eating that? Woe betide the heathen who dared say such a hurtful thing. You insensitive bastard, it’s genetic, his whole family is like that. Um…but he’s eaten two pizzas today…are you sure that’s genetic? 

 

You see, I think that’s part of the problem – it’s politically correct to tell people they’re drinking too much, or that they should quit smoking, but we’re in denial about obesity. You mustn’t tell the fatty they’re fat, they might feel bad about themselves and eat more! Yeah, I know, the fuckin’ fat cunt might eat YOU, you’re just scared! For fuck’s sake, tell her from a distance, the fat fuck won’t be able to chase you for long. 

 

Now before all you fatties out there start sending me death threats, I’d like to point out I’m not advocating everyone need have chiseled abs and cheekbones or plastic surgery themselves to look like Paris Hilton, that’s just another disgusting sickness. What I’m saying is: take physical responsibility for yourself. Be a bit healthy.

  

No-one wants to walk down a street and see a piss-pants drunk sitting there boozing himself into oblivion, nor do you want to see junkies shooting up nor sex addicts jerking themselves off in public. Why not? Because it’s offensive. Obese people are killing themselves with food. I find it offensive to see some filthy, fat pig scoffing into a Big Mac. Most people will walk past keeping their revulsion private but everyone finds it unsettling, even if only on a well-trained, unconscious level. It turns my stomach and I can’t understand why it is no longer acceptable to acknowledge that offensiveness. Even the most compassionate soul has to concede that, on a purely pragmatic level, it’s a massive a waste of resources. On a planet with billions of people barely surviving, these fat turds eat enough each day for a whole family, and in a few years time they’re going to be a massive financial burden on an already strained health system. We all will be paying through the nose to save these fatties from themselves. Maybe they need a dose of reality rather than that second Double Quarter Pounder! YOU’RE FUCKIN’ FAT, FATTY!!! FATTY FAT FAT FAT!!! HAVEN’T YOU HAD ENOUGH FOOD, YOU STINKING FAT CUNT??? What? Chase me, fuckface!   

 

 

*Office Body – a phenomenon where, due to a lack of physical activity, chronic over-eating and a diet of shit, a person becomes overweight or obese and most of their muscles wither away except for a few fingers on the hand that operates their computer mouse. See also Internet Body, Playstation Body or Lazy Fat Cunt.