Eat your unwanted Viagra emails!

The other day, I came home to an odd, hard-to-place smell: a mélange of hot rubber, bacon grease, and burning hair. 

“Uh… don’t go in the kitchen,” Paul said, avoiding my gaze. He looked like a dog who’s just peed on the parquet floors. “There’s something in there you may find a bit, um …disturbing.”

Disturbing?  Hmmm.... A dead rat?  A live hooker? A case of Cheese Whiz?

With great trepidation, I peered into the kitchen. My one open eye instantly spotted the iconic rectangular can immortalized by Andy Warhol. (Hint: it may contain snouts, taints, and other parts of the pig generally only known to morbid anatomists.)

Yes, Paul had cooked -- and eaten -- a sizeable chunk of Spam. To my knowledge, this wasn’t to win a bet, or because he was somehow trapped in a fallout shelter. Which are the only reasons I can think of to eat this un-kosher (in every sense of the word) abomination.

Proof the even God is not above shameless pressed-meat product placement...

Paul received the Spam in question as a birthday gift from our friend Keith, who enjoys this long-lasting Meat Product with Miracle Whip, olives, and Wonder Bread. As a novelty gift, Spam is hilarious; as a meal, it’s just disturbing. At the risk of sounding like a snob, I prefer not to eat foods that could survive a nuclear apocalypse. This goes double for pressed meats that are synonymous with unwanted emails from offshore accounts touting discount Viagra and/or “Near you girls are now wanting the sex click here!!!”

“We didn’t have any other Caveman-friendly foods,” Paul complained. Why he couldn’t hunt and gather some food from the grocery store, I don’t know. 

At least it wasn’t a bison carcass. But I’m not sure that would’ve been any better.

I would go on about this, but first, I have to figure out how to adjust the Spam filters in our kitchen cabinets.