My pet pig Albin
Things are quiet around here, so I'll shift some guilt.
I had a pet pig when I lived in Sweden, called Albin. I fed him, I watered him. I knew he was going to be toast one day. We were fattening him up for christmas. One day I arrived home to find him strung up and a bucket of blood below him. I was in shock. I mistakenly told my gf's father that I liked black pudding. I looked at the bucket of blood. They all smiled at me.
The result. I was served a dish known as Blodpankaka. Literally pancakes made from blood. They were blood red. I gulped. Sat down poked at them with my fork and took one mouthful, but all I seen was Albin. I chucked up. It kinda ruined the meal.
So if you're ever in Sweden, never ever try it. I swear you wont like them.
Hope your not about to have some food.
Any other horrible food stories?
I had a pet pig when I lived in Sweden, called Albin. I fed him, I watered him. I knew he was going to be toast one day. We were fattening him up for christmas. One day I arrived home to find him strung up and a bucket of blood below him. I was in shock. I mistakenly told my gf's father that I liked black pudding. I looked at the bucket of blood. They all smiled at me.
The result. I was served a dish known as Blodpankaka. Literally pancakes made from blood. They were blood red. I gulped. Sat down poked at them with my fork and took one mouthful, but all I seen was Albin. I chucked up. It kinda ruined the meal.
So if you're ever in Sweden, never ever try it. I swear you wont like them.
Hope your not about to have some food.
Any other horrible food stories?
Post edited by Ælita on
I stole it off a space ship.
Comments
Apparently, these people that live in Scotland (a county in England) have these things called bagpipes. They are in fact dying squirrels that sqwalk their dying breaths whilst a man with orange hair squeezes them.
How cruel.
In scotlandshire, they also 'toss' cabers.
So theoretically, if you had one large enough, it could be used as a kind of organic 'slinky', and walk down the stairs on it's own.
I'd be interest to know if anyone has got this to work.
We were gonna cook one and I knew it. But I swore I wouldn't put one string of flesh into my mouth. I don't eat my pets
A few days later my pops called me to the kitchen said "Taste this", giving me some meat. I tasted it, said "Hmm, quite tasty, What is it?" When I found out it was the rabbit I nearly threw up and hadn't spoken to my pops for a few days :)
Could understand one of the parents eventually cooking/killing the pig or rabbit but to do it without telling the kid !! Thats just a bit weird !!
ROTFL.
But blood pancakes??!! That takes the cake (excuse the horrid pun) surely! How the hell do they eat that?!
Bytes:Chuntey - Spectrum tech blog.
it said "navy mans black pudding up bum torture"
just seemed to lodge in my head (yup not bum :p)
Well I'm eating my lunch actually, thanks for asking - although my steel stomach doesn't really give a damn - I sometimes watch operations on TV while I eat.
ASteelybelly.
[ This Message was edited by: MustrumRidcully on 2005-10-27 16:08 ]
Are you ill Melthebell?
if ill means stoned then yes i am :)
Melthebell, aren't you going to wank your cock?
[ This Message was edited by: MustrumRidcully on 2005-10-27 17:57 ]
My father IS weird :p
Well, as for me, I don't have the heart to hurt nor eat my pets.
I'm an animal lover, what can I tell ya
(no replies connnected with zoophilia please, that's not what I meant :p )
I know someone who bought some suspiciously cheap sausages from the market.
When he got them cooked and started eating them, he kept finding unpleasant things in them (pipe type bits etc.).
Rather than waste them, he ate them in the dark.
[ This Message was edited by: chaosmongers on 2005-10-27 21:48 ]
Is that true? gosh! those poor wee thingies, animal rughts shall hear of this, I assure you.
Come on now!, 'tossing' cabers is good for you. You know how big cabers are, Well thats indicative of scottish males, thats why they make great lovers, not like a lot of puny englishmen whose size and quality is more akin to that London delicacy 'jellied eels'
Actually, they're small Englishmen we breed specially for the purpose of torturing to death. Then we grind them up and make haggis out of 'em.
No I wont really. I'm just mentally deranged at times. By-product of being close to the edge for a lot of years. In fact I'm shutting up on the subject. This is not the place. Sorry.