Discussion in 'Cool Internet Videos' started by mr. sin, Feb 28, 2013.
That's what I'll be doing this weekend, butchering a hog. She gets a shower after she's dead, not before. Saturday afternoon a shot will ring out, a knife will plunge, guts will fall out. Sunday morning after a night of hanging around chilling, she will be reduced to market cuts, sausages made and the bacons and hams cured.
do u deliver to raleigh? lol!
Why do I have to go to an Asian market to buy Berkshire pork?
Why is there still pig squeal noises after they are dead?
Butchers, doing their job to provide animal protein to the rest of us omnivores. So? Whats your point?
Because they aren't dead yet. They are just stunned, the necktie is what actually kills them.
You mean they aren't found in the wild in plastic packaging? Always wondered how they walked around.
I prefer to look at it in my world
Fucking love bacon. I wouldn't give a fuck if they beat them to death with a sock full of quarters.
OH MY GOD I LOVE MEAT BUT THEY ACTUALLY HAVE TO KILL ANIMALS SO THAT I CAN ENJOY IT? WHAT IS THIS?
commercial slaughter houses are modern marvels. the entire building is a machine, its really quite amazing.
and i do love bacon
Back when the packing plants still hired white people to work on the line my buddy Ricky worked on the kill floor. He said they would still be alive sometimes all the way up to the scalding tanks. Notice how trim those hogs are? They bred all the fat out of them so they would give leaner meat......SHIT! My brother in law and nephew raise about 10 hogs a year and those hogs are great big fat fuckers. The meat is 10 times better then those factory farm hogs. They also have room to roam on his farm, a pig mud pit and they eat a varied diet. A lot of that diet consists of rejected bread dough from the Old Home Bread bakery.
I'm sorry the factory piggies have such shitty lives before going to slaughter, but meats meat, and a man has to eat. Yeah BACON!!
My dad worked on the kill floor at Tobin Packing plant in Albany when I was a kid. I saw the hog-slaughtering process first hand when I was 8-years-old. It freaked me out a little bit, but I went home and I felt better after I ate a hotdog.
My dad always wanted us to know that meat didn't just magically appear at the grocery store in neat little plastic-wrapped bundles.
My sister dabbled in veganism when she went away to college/socialist reeducation camp... and that was a great source of amusement for the Puncher men at the holiday dinner table.
Papa Puncher: How's the veal, guys?
Zombie Eye: Mmmm... it's tender and innocent.
Three Hole: Delicious. I can practically taste the final screams of its short life.
Sister veggie: You guys are barbaric assholes! as she pushed away her tofurky, got up, and stormed out of the dining room.
Puncher men: Ha ha ha ha ha ha.