Mack Hall
Monkey With all the Trimmings
Mrs. Mamie Manneh of New York faces trial for importing bits of dead monkey.
Back in 2006 customs inspectors examined twelve cardboard boxes mailed to Mrs. Manneh from West Africa. The manifest said that the boxes contained only dresses and dried fish, but beneath the fish was the late Curious George.
Mrs. Manneh said this must be some sort of mistake; she never ordered dead monkeys.
And one can understand. I don’t know how many times I’ve ordered a book or a watch or a shirt through the mail and gotten a parcel of dead monkey instead.
A search of Mrs. Manneh’s house revealed (I quote from the AP report) “a tiny, hairy arm” hidden in her garage.
Mrs. Manneh said that the arm was sent to her by God, and that consuming dead monkeys is a part of her religion.
She didn’t say whether or not they taste like chicken.
Mrs. Manneh’s attorney is claiming cultural insensitivity, while the feds are touchy about the importation of unregulated meat products with the potential for disease transmission.
Hey, anyone who gets teary-eyed about the little girl saying that every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings needn’t be snotty about other cultures, okay?
And, after all, Mr. Pickwick carried a big codfish with him to Dingley Dell for Christmas, and H.M. Government never asked for its papers.
Some of us wonder about a god who makes home delivery of meats. What, no side dishes? And is this religious discrimination against vegetarians?
Mrs. Manneh won’t be difficult to find for the trial; she’s in prison for trying to run over her husband. He’s upset because for now he must raise their twelve children by himself.
“Hey, kids, how about some yummy dachshunds for lunch?”
“Aw, Dad, we had dachshunds yesterday. Make us some hamster stew!”
Don’t tell me hamster stew is yucky. Ya want yucky? Watch any of those Hallmark Christmas movies.
A monkey on the table for Christmas? Well, maybe. Several weeks ago an Australian environmental group recommended eating kangaroos as an antidote to global warming (http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,22562480-662,00.html) and Heather Mills (Lady Paul McCartney) touts the drinking of rat’s milk (http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/11/20/nmills120.xml).
Monkey and kangaroo, all washed down with rat’s milk. It doesn’t work for me, but then, as a friend suggested last week, I’m definitely lacking in sophistication.
Monkey With all the Trimmings
Mrs. Mamie Manneh of New York faces trial for importing bits of dead monkey.
Back in 2006 customs inspectors examined twelve cardboard boxes mailed to Mrs. Manneh from West Africa. The manifest said that the boxes contained only dresses and dried fish, but beneath the fish was the late Curious George.
Mrs. Manneh said this must be some sort of mistake; she never ordered dead monkeys.
And one can understand. I don’t know how many times I’ve ordered a book or a watch or a shirt through the mail and gotten a parcel of dead monkey instead.
A search of Mrs. Manneh’s house revealed (I quote from the AP report) “a tiny, hairy arm” hidden in her garage.
Mrs. Manneh said that the arm was sent to her by God, and that consuming dead monkeys is a part of her religion.
She didn’t say whether or not they taste like chicken.
Mrs. Manneh’s attorney is claiming cultural insensitivity, while the feds are touchy about the importation of unregulated meat products with the potential for disease transmission.
Hey, anyone who gets teary-eyed about the little girl saying that every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings needn’t be snotty about other cultures, okay?
And, after all, Mr. Pickwick carried a big codfish with him to Dingley Dell for Christmas, and H.M. Government never asked for its papers.
Some of us wonder about a god who makes home delivery of meats. What, no side dishes? And is this religious discrimination against vegetarians?
Mrs. Manneh won’t be difficult to find for the trial; she’s in prison for trying to run over her husband. He’s upset because for now he must raise their twelve children by himself.
“Hey, kids, how about some yummy dachshunds for lunch?”
“Aw, Dad, we had dachshunds yesterday. Make us some hamster stew!”
Don’t tell me hamster stew is yucky. Ya want yucky? Watch any of those Hallmark Christmas movies.
A monkey on the table for Christmas? Well, maybe. Several weeks ago an Australian environmental group recommended eating kangaroos as an antidote to global warming (http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,22562480-662,00.html) and Heather Mills (Lady Paul McCartney) touts the drinking of rat’s milk (http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/11/20/nmills120.xml).
Monkey and kangaroo, all washed down with rat’s milk. It doesn’t work for me, but then, as a friend suggested last week, I’m definitely lacking in sophistication.
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