Drool, Losers

Okay, I feel a little better now, so it's time to chronicle the big pig adventure.

Remember how I was complaining that Cabrera's had left young Mikey's poopchute in place? Guess what? It turns out they did that for a reason. As Val demonstrates below.

"Try to relax. A little discomfort is normal."

Hold it. It's not what you think. Val is surgically enhancing Mikey's sphincter so it will receive the inch-and-a-quarter-thick aluminum pipe we used as a spit.

That's what he SAID he was doing. Now that I think about it, he was alone with that pig for quite some time.

Here's what the pig looked like after Val got done uniting it with the pole and I finished filling it with stuffing:

This was a new experience for us. For some reason, I happened to have some upholstery needles, and Val happened to have butcher's twine, and I also happened to have a spool of stainless fishing wire for deep-dropping. Val wired both ends of the pig to the pole, and he sewed the belly up nicely. Then--and this was pure genius--he used self-tapping sheet metal screws to screw the pig to the pole and keep it from spinning.

You will notice the pig has what we here in Miami call "a Colombian necktie." This is what Colombian drug dealers like to do to snitches, competing dealers, and people who lean on their Ferraris. They cut their throats and pull their tongues through the hole. Not sure what Mikey did to piss them off, but there you are.

Here is the pit Val threw together in his backyard just for the occasion. You would not believe how well this works. It was way over 200 degrees.

Val sewed up the pig's belly, which was a phenomenal pain in the ass. There's a reason they make footballs out of pigs. Although I'm pretty sure they actually use cowhide now. Anyway, here's Mikey chilling in his fly new crib.

He's been in there about an hour.

These are the ostrich burgers we ate as appetizers. The security guard at the zoo said, "Man, I ain't fallin' for no banana in my tailpipe!" Whatever, chump. They were pretty good.

They really do taste like beef, and as far as I know, there is no such thing as Mad Ostrich Disease.

This is the ManCamp Lizard. If the photo is fuzzy, it's because he's across the canal, and I cropped this down from 1024 x 768. This photo is interesting because the lizard appears to be into the Dolphins game. As you can see, he has done his best to simulate the team's colors, orange and aqua.

If I could have caught him, we would have followed those ostrich burgers with a tasty lizard frappe. As part of our quest to kill and eat one of every type of animal on the planet. But as you can see, he's quite trim and athletic.

He was over there talking smack at us, doing the aggressive lizard head-pump and glaring at us like he was bad or something. I had had a few beers, so I got down and gave it right back to him. And the little bitch ran away.

Here's what the pig looked like after it was cooked. Unfortunately, he is not facing the camera. Pay no mind to the thermometer. He's having a physical.

One more:

"Surrender, Dorothy!"

Unfortunately, Tommy was even drunker than I thought, and he didn't get any shots of the carved pig and the piles of steaming pork, and the mounds of fragrant stuffing, and the magnificent coconut flan.

But it was REAL good, trust me. This was absolutely the best roast pork I have ever had. Grease dripped from the pig as we carved it, and the meat was so tender we could have pulled it off with a fork. And the flavor...ohhhh. Don't get me started. The sage. The apricots. The Marsala. The golden raisins browned in butter. Everyone raved. Even the people who don't rave as a matter of course.

Seriously, I have no idea what we're going to make after this. The only thing I could think of was roast ostrich, stuffed with a turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken. "Osturducken."

But that is an adventure for another week.