I joined the Men's Club at my church, and my first manly event was a "chicken cleaning" last Friday night in preparation for our chicken dinner fundraiser this past Sunday.
Cleaning chickens is about as glorious as it sounds. Fifteen other guys and I armed ourselves with aprons and latex gloves, then ripped fat and "thumbed" organs out of 450 chicken halves for 4 hours. Blood, guts and salmonella - who could ask for a better Friday night?
And as it turns out, ripping fat out of chickens is my specialty.
On Sunday, Betty took Anne to church while I went out back to help the guys cook and box the chicken. It was a lot of fun. Did I mention that I got out of church to help box chicken?
Betty was worried that I wouldn't eat chicken again after seeing how it was prepared, but it didn't bother me that much. If it were up to me I'd pounce on a live chicken and rip into its neck with my mighty incisors. I'm a neanderthal, after all. It's the thrill of the hunt!
The next Men's Club event is a fish fry for the church's fair. If there's no fat to rip off of a fish's body then I don't know how my mad fat-ripping skillz will be put to use. Oh well... there's always the next chicken dinner.
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