INKBLORT webcomic

Today my pop tasked me to chopping up a whole chicken (erm, already dead, clean, etc.) It wasn’t particularly exciting, but perhaps sadly, was the most interesting experience I’ve had this week (I generally spend my time enjoying boring, monotonous activities). It’s weird when the meat actually sort of resembles what it was. I think you get so used to thinking of meat as neatly packed slabs, that you sort of forget they weren’t just walking chicken breasts or whatever. It was a living, breathing beast or bird that was born for you.

I’m not about to go veggie, but I couldn’t help but feel a little more unsettled than usual as I stabbed into the chicken’s chest, making a chalky, cracking sound, with my dad in the background saying “Good! You broke through the ribcage!”

Poor chicken.

At least his last act was to taste great.