Actually, if there had been a “spit, don’t swallow” category, it would be a lot more appropriate to some of the exhibits in the Potted Meat Museum than “yum” but I work within the constraints I am given. At least it’s not nearly as frightening as Pete’s hats of meat last week.
Now admittedly, there is a place for potted meat (and saying “potted meat” gives me a weird little pleasure–perhaps something akin to how Perry feels about “toast points”). I mean, we would have no tuna sandwiches without potted meat, and, hmmm…ok, well, maybe that’s the only one I can think of that doesn’t really spook me. Because, yeah, I’m kinda spooked by beef and iron wine and pork brains with milk gravy. Actually, I’m more than a little spooked by those. Spooked we’ll leave to the realm of canned steak and kidney pie, which seems something iffy enough in its fresh form that it really oughtn’t to be consumed from a can. I’d say the same goes for turtle soup.
And I’m assuming (or is hoping a more appropriate word here) that the armadillo meat–sundried and road tenderized–is a joke, which is why it’s listed under “exotic and other.” Now there’s a category for you! Jay, can we add that one to nonfamous, for newsbits that just don’t work in any of the other established genres?