My dudes, I have to tell you something

My dudes. I have to tell you something. I just finished rubbing a butt and my hands have never felt so silky smooth.

Get your hands out of your pants Sharon and listen to the whole story.

I was just elbow deep in the washing, trimming, and seasoning of a huge pork butt. Don’t fret I also named it, read it a story, and thanked it. Seemed like the least I could do for it’s ultimate sacrifice. Reginald. I know you were wondering.

I’m assuming this is our Reginald prior to him being our dinner
Back to the results of my laborious endeavor. My hands are like that of a wee child now. So smooth. So soft. So sensual. So gross.

Turns out carcass is a hell of a moisturizer.

This makes sense now. I want those shoes because my heels are chronically dry and cracked
Stop. Don’t be running down to your nearest butcher and rubbing yourself all over the fresh meat. Actually do exactly like that. That’s hilarious. What if a local butcher was overrun by mildly insane housewives partaking in the latest beauty craze. BOY GEORGE! Think on that a moment……….I definitely want to shake hands with a butcher. What if his hand is like being enveloped in a silky tender meat clamp.


Lord love a duck Sharon. Everything about that last sentence was unsettling.

There was a small intermission. You wouldn’t know because I’m writing not speaking but I was silent there for a good 20 minutes. I couldn’t handle the bizarre feeling any more and went and scrubbed down with a Degreaser followed by Clorox wipes. I know you are not supposed to cross the streams when it comes to cleaning products, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Now my hands are back to the decrepit haggard sand paper hooves they were originally.

I miss it. They were really so soft. Nothing I can do now. Can’t go rubbing the meat for pleasure. (name of my sex tape) This is the kind of beauty regimen you can accidentally stumble upon or pretend to be ignorant of. You can’t make a kitchen show of it, call it Hannibal time and choreograph a dance. Look at what happened to the Mayans. That spiraled out of control for those people. But in every depiction…… their skin appears supple am I right? Now we know.

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Time to go smoke a little butt so I will end the story with this final statement. If you are at all grossed out by my tale of tales. Google tallow and shut the f%%# up Sharon.


A recipe:

Open the butt. The packaging. Seriously Sharon.

Wash the butt.

If it’s a big fat butt. Trim it a little. Cut the fat chunks away. Yes you can use a scalpel. Yes you can use a German accent. Strangely I prefer to go Canadian with my sick doctor impressions. (Because insane and Canadian is so unexpected it becomes very unsettling.) Yes you can promise the butt you will have it looking bikini ready in no time but that it may experience some minor swelling and some temporary bruising. Yes your husband will tell you to stop. No he will not give you a dirty look this is one of those times he sadly stares past you into the void.

Coat the butt with oil. I like Olive oil (but it’s not extra virgin after all the butt play am I right?) Sorry! We were all thinking it, someone had to say it.

Rub the butt. With the seasoning Sharon!!

Smoke ’em if you got em. If you have a smoker. I’m using the traeger. After about 10 minutes turn the heat up to 225* and throw that bare butt on the grill.

Oh the places you’ll go and the things you will do while you wait for this to turn into a sandwich. That good for nothing pile of meat is going to reach an internal temperature of 150* and stay there for YEARS. Let me put it this way folks. All of my kids could clean their room before this sucker is ready.

Just when you forget you were cooking something BAM! the internal temp is 190*ish and when you shove a fork in it you can spin it round. right round now baby right round like a record baby right round round round. My apologies but that is an auto response obviously.

Shred the meat (can’t call it a butt anymore. it was never really a butt to begin with anyways) then Bob’s your uncle Fanny’s your aunt and you have a sandwich.


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