My good internet friend, Lime, gave me an award.
If you're one of the masochists who has been coming here for years, then you know that I long ago gave up accepting awards. The short story, since few of you will have clicked onto the link for the long version, is that I got tired of spewing venom upon those kind souls who gave them to me. It was my practice to heap insults and humiliation on the poor suckers, and while most victims of the abuse asked for it and reveled in it, once or twice the person on the receiving end didn't understand the humorous intent and had been basically brought to tears by what they perceived as a truly mean and rude reaction by a self-confessed Christian and a fanatic about Mister Rogers. So, I said, "Enough is too much!", and stopped accepting the damn things.
Lime is my good friend, however, and she pretty much begged to be abused, so I accepted her award and promised to barbecue her. That was three weeks ago. I have not been able to work up enough vitriolic pressure to do so. That's probably due to my softball teams winning most of their games. I'm too happy a guy to call her a despicable and overbearing wart on the hindquarters of humanity. I just don't feel like tearing her a new one (and, anyway, she lives in West Bumfuck, PA, and thinks a thesaurus is what you get on your lips when you kiss a T Rex with herpes, so why bother?)
I did promise her a post, though, so I hope her nasty and brutish disposition will allow her to accept what follows in the hideous spirit intended. It is a re-run, from six years ago, and if paying back her kindness with a moldy old re-run isn't insult enough for her, then I don't know my business and she can go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut (except she's a she, so I think she'd have to be the rolling donut and somebody else will have to take the flying fuck and if anybody is in the vicinity with a camera, I'll pay good money.)
Wow! That was worse than the stuff that made other people cry, so maybe I'm just a rotten person and should kill myself for the betterment of everyone else?
Nah! Here's the old stuff. By the way, it's a recipe for...
ENCHILDA VAN VECHTEN
The enchilda (misspellicus enchilada) is the only mammal native to the continent of Antarctica. It was discovered in 1995 by the brilliant yet extremely alcoholic zoologist, Kenneth Van Vechten. Until that time, he had been best known for his work in the field of animal husbandry. Then one day they caught him at it (see Lehrer for details) and he had to skip town, so he headed to Antarctica.
While in Antarctica, Van Vechten stumbled upon the enchilda, literally. In a blind stupor one evening, he went to take a whiz behind a handy iceberg and tripped over the only known colony of the creatures. He estimated that there were 2 million enchilda in the colony. Later (sober) counts put the number at 403.
The general consensus among the scientific community, upon being informed by Van Vechten of his discovery, was one of disbelief. This was because he had previously “discovered” giant pink rabbits. This time, though, he had taken pictures that actually showed something other than his disheveled living room strewn with tequila bottles. Upon seeing these newer photographs, the scientific community said, "Bleah!"
A full-grown adult enchilda weighs 75 pounds, most of that weight being in the legs. This is because it has 12 legs, each approximately 30 inches long. It has been postulated by some that it developed multiple legs in an evolutionary response to its environment. It has been postulated by others that the original postulators are full of shit and that God just has a tremendous sense of humor. In any case, the legs do aid in locomotion over ice and snow.
A thick pelt of white hair covers the body of the enchilda. This is the reason for its not having been discovered sooner, since it blends into the Antarctican background so readily. Either that or every scientist who visited Antarctica prior to Van Vechten must have been on the crack pipe to have missed these hideous creatures.
Perhaps the most interesting thing about the enchilda is its reproductive cycle. All enchilda are bisexual and hermaphroditic. They are born with five each of male sexual organs and five each of female sexual organs. They do not become sexually mature until they reach exactly six years of age. At precisely midnight on the day of their maturity, they indulge in a gigantic community orgy. Each enchilda copulates with ten other enchilda in an amazing daisy chain that ends with an explosive group orgasm at dawn.
Enchilda copulation always results in pregnancy and the gestation period is three hours. At 9:36 am, every pregnant enchilda makes its way down to the sea, dives into the water, gives birth, and then dies. They all give birth to one new enchilda, thus the population is static.
Until Van Vechten came along the dead enchilda were all eaten by whales. Van Vechten, having done a miserable job of planning for his food needs (he had packed 15 cases of tequila and two jelly donuts) decided to see if the enchilda were edible.
As it turns out, the answer was yes and no. Fully mature enchilda, having given birth and died, become both completely edible and utterly delicious. However, the non-mature-yet-to-have-sex-and-give-birth enchilda are fatally poisonous. Thus, since the only edible enchilda is one that has died of natural causes, the enchilda is the only animal approved for eating by PETA.
Since enchilda mate and give birth once - and only once - every six years, the window of opportunity for eating enchilda is limited. Due to their severe physiology, it is impossible to freeze an enchilda; they all must be harvested and eaten fresh. In addition, they rot in less than twenty minutes once exposed to warm-weather bacterial forms, so it is impossible at this time to eat them anywhere on Earth except their native land. The next enchilda orgy will occur on March 19th of 2014, so the following recipe is useless unless you plan on being in Antarctica on that date.
(It should also be noted that the enchilda-eating whales are so intent on their once-every-six-years feast they will actually pursue onto the ice sheet anyone who tries to poach “their” enchilda. Unfortunately, this is how Van Vechten met his demise. After eating an enchilda, he was himself eaten by a pissed-off whale.)
So, on to the recipe. Here’s what you’ll need:
1 Fully Matured (Dead And Sexually Satisfied) Enchilda
1 Very Heavy Cast Iron Frying Pan
That’s about it. The frying pan is for fighting off the whales. Whack 'em over the head with it if they get close to you.
As for the enchilda, they taste exactly like a medium rare strip sirloin when raw, so that’s the best way to eat them. When you cook one, it tastes like Spackle. The only exception is the spleen, which after cooking tastes like licorice bubble gum. And nobody in their right mind eats the liver; even the whales spit it out. The middle toe on the fifth left leg is considered a delicacy, but nobody knows why.
I hope that satisfies you, bitch (though I have no earthly idea why it would.)
Soon, with more bitter stuff.