So, one day I reached into a pocket of my jacket and found an at first unidentified hard dark colored thing. It took me a while to recognize it for what it was: a dried up wiener slice, and I identified it — by smell! That made my mind to go whirr whirr whirr.
So, I stuck a wiener slice on the inside of the window sill. Later, that wiener slice was gone. I asked GMR, “Did you remove a wiener slice from the window sill?” (Yes, in my house, living with me, those kinds of questions are asked). He answered, “Um, yeah . . .” careful now, he is thinking, “I thought it had just kind of fell or jumped up there or something . . . um . . .” GMR’s looking confused now, thinking, Is this a trick? What’s the Right Answer to this puzzle that is my wife? I said, “I put it there; I was doing an experiment.” GMR: “Oh . . . okay . . .” and because he is used to his wife’s craziness and weirdness he didn’t even ask, What experiment? or maybe unlike ME, he just doesn’t care or isn’t interested in the intricacies and mysteries and wonders of Life! And Wiener Slices! Annnywayyy . . .
I cut another wiener slice and put it on the sill, this time sure that GMR would leave it alone. Days passed. I forgot about it until I glanced up and saw my slice. It had turned darker, and more rubbier—but here is the thing! It still smelled the same! It still smelled like the same wiener slice it had smelled of when I took it out of the package.
Now, my friends, we all know that if you put a piece of meat, or egg, or spill some milk, or any protein like that on a windowsill, and it sits there in the heat and open elements, it is NOT going to smell like it smelled fresh from the fridge—it is going to stink to high-heaven. Not so with the wiener. That wiener still kept its bouquet of Wiener days after, and then, two days after that, as the wiener slice sat on the counter (GMR must have passed it soooo many times and dared not move it from the spot in case there was some existential reason his wife put it there, some mad writer thing that made her keep a wiener slice on the windowsill and then the counter . . .) and it still smells the same: like wiener!
Why would we eat such things? Such things that do not decompose? But instead stay near the same, but even worse, become harder and darker and rubbier even though they still SMELL like they were when fresh—that would be in our stomachs! Eyeww! Of course, even though I am a Flexitarian (you can ask if you don’t know what this is), I now have the urge for a big honking hot dog with plenty of onions, mustard, and hot dog chili—huhn.
So, next time you eat a wiener, you can think of this post. Fourth of July is coming—so…yeah…remember remember remember – teeheehee.
PS – As I photographed my wiener, GMR asked in amazement, “Don’t tell me you’re going to blog about that dead wiener?” Um . . . Do you even KNOW me, GMR? Do you even KNOW me?