Ever wonder where the bio waste from hospitals goes? You know, snipped umbilical cords, liposuction fat, unusable severed limbs, removed organs, etc. Would you believe me if I told you that cannibalism isn’t JUST for the Congo anymore or practiced in some remote village in the Amazon rain forest, but that it is practiced, openly, in upscale places like Manhattan and Los Angeles? Yeah right, you say? Well, I have a cousin named Tristan who so happens to be a facilitator of this bourgeoisie taste of the unwashed masses. You see, most hospitals have an incinerator somewhere on the premises to dispose of bio waste and material in a safe and efficient manner. If the hospital is not equipped with an incinerator or that method of disposal isn’t economical they hire companies like Tristan’s to make sure it’s taken care of. So when Grandma gets a heart transplant and doesn’t need the old faulty one, the star high school football player gets his legs ripped off in a car accident and can’t reattach them, or little Timmy loses three fingers because he thought the pit bull was just like his aunt’s cute Pomeranian, that’s Tristan’s bread and butter. My cousin is very well connected in New York and particularly in Manhattan. So much so, that you know how your driver’s license says whether you are an organ donor or not? When you roll into the hospital near death but potentially recoverable, do you really think, with the back log of patients waiting for heart, liver, spleen, kidney and penis transplants that your philanthropic ass stands a chance of surviving? Or with Tristan getting his percentage, having paid off the hospital staff already, that you won’t end up on a dinner plate on the Upper West Side? Get real brother, you’re fucked. Even if you didn’t put organ donor on your license you may still be doomed. Do you honestly believe that if Arnold Schwarzenegger’s daughter is dying of heart failure and needs one, that your plug won’t get pulled so they can send your iced up blood pump hurdling across the country by jet into the warm hands of John Liebawitz, M.D.? Once again; get real brother, you’re fucked. Anyways, back to Tristan. So, when Tristan gets the body parts, blood bags, liposuction fat bags, etc., he takes them to his warehouse where he catalogs and stores them. He checks his status board which has the various restaurant’s requests and orders on it and when they will need those particular items. After that he gets in his truck and distributes the people pieces as ordered. He always does curbside service and the chefs love him for it. They get some of the freshest stuff anywhere because of Tristan’s impeccable timing, efficiency, and careful packaging. Timmy, the pitbull petter’s fingers become a delicious pate to be spread on batter fried leg skin crackers. It's finger food; literally. Grandma’s heart is ground in a meat grinder, mixed with a red wine and cranberry vinaigrette reduction then packed in between two sheets of egg pasta to make ravioli. The grandma heart ravioli is then covered in a cheese sauce and diced portabella mushrooms. Mmmmm… That sounds fucking good, doesn’t it? What about Mr. All Star quarterback who won’t be doing the LMFAO shuffle any time soon, you ask? Well his legs got diced into 1 inch cubes and added to the Guinness beef stew to be served with a side of carrot soup and Irish soda bread. It’s a really hardy meal that even Mr. All Star might say, after eating it, that it was worth losing the legs over. Look…. I know what you’re saying to yourself right now; “what the…fuck?”. Remember when you’re Mom used to tell you not to waste those nasty bits of soggy broccoli on your plate because there were starving kids in Somalia, Ethiopia or [insert destitute cholera ridden country]? Tristan and the cannibal chefs of Manhattan are the solution to that problem; they make delicious food out of a perfectly good and often wasted product. So next time you shutter at the thought of cannibals dining amongst you, think about the contribution your body parts could make to the culinary world. You’re saying that you can’t spare a finger or two for the starving socialites of New York City? Well, aren’t you the selfish one…?
In case you were curious:
Bourgeoisie- The upper crust of a society; that privileged class
The Great Unwashed Masses- You, me and everyone else in society that gets their lives dictated to and are apparently too stupid and undereducated to think for themselves and control their own actions and must be controlled.
LMFAO- are these guys: http://youtu.be/KQ6zr6kCPj8
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