Infested Delicacies & Geriatric Swagger

Those who know me would probably tell you I get my jollies from two things: boobs and beer.

And, based on the evidence here at 'Funktards' thus far, you'd probably buy it. But, I'm here to tell you -- man cannot live on nipple and Natty Light alone.

I've got my fair share of vices, but for now we'll only add one to the list: food. That's right, I'm all about getting my grub on, yo. I'm sportin' a metabolism that makes Speedy Gonzalez look like Dick Clark, so drop the images of glutton dancing around your head. I like to eat.

As an experienced eater I feel justified in sharing a big gripe. I've always been bothered by the fine line that exists between fine cuisine and Fear Factor. African cave-dwelling spiders? Fear Factor. Monkey brains? Delicacy. Camel Spiders? Fear Factor.

Get my drift? OK, then, hot shot: Is cheese filled with maggots hellbent on jumping into your eyeballs Fear Factor or delicacy?

Check out the big brain on you. That's right, it's a delicacy -- one apparently best savored with a strong red wine.

Allow me to offer up a hearty, "What the fuckin' fuck?" Better still, "Why the fuckin' fuck?" Because it's believed to be an aphrodisiac? Well you can take your grubby cheese and hump it to your heart's content, Kemo Sabe. We live in the age of Viagra. One need only look to my Great Uncle Arthur for proof that we don't need to eat maggots to get the ol' rooster crowing ... Uncle A pulls more bush than my gardener down at the retirement community.

So, in summary, if it sounds gross -- don't believe the hype -- a turd tastes like shit whether you eat it out of the bowl or off of a plate. Not that I know from experience or anything, but one of Uncle A's girlfriends always used to say that.