Stop Touching Things

"Miss! you can't touch the artwork..."
"He means you, too, G-ma"

Monday, August 10, 2009

The Spam Flu

Ahhh Spam. How many ways you've tortured my childhood with your sickly pink color and gelatinous goo that schlurps you out of your can.

My father tortured us with Spam breakfasts and Spam salads as kids. We may have really liked it, but the idea of it was just off putting. Living within driving distance of the birthplace of Spam led me to threaten potential first dates with trips to the Spam Museum. They all declined.

That was then. Since that time Spam has become COOL. There is even a musical about it.

So, what does this have to with HOWKTOWN? Well, let's just say I heard a rumor this weekend at the Howk Family Reunion about a Spam Cook Off between my dad and my aunt. That of course led to the rest of the weekend thinking up crazy Spam recipes.

My dad wants to take a loaf of Spam, drill a hole in the middle, spread some cream cheese in there and then insert a pickle. He was telling me this over breakfast and let's just say the egg covered fork stayed perched in front of my open mouth for a good 20 seconds as he described this 'entry'. He wasn't finished, though. Then after all ingredients are combined, you slice it. "Like a Pimento Loaf!" he exclaimed!

Oh, that idea was added to the list of about 40 things he wants to try... including Spam Jelly, and Spam Ice cream.

Yesterday, some of us weren't feeling too great. We made a joke about hoping it wasn't the swine flu, "I think I know what the problem is, it's the SPAM flu. Not exactly swine in either case." reported the Mayor of Ingvaldia. This morning, a full 3/4 of us had fevers or upset stomachs. Oh, I know it's the Spam Flu, and I don't have it so I'm steering clear of the place and eating lots of vegetables... the furthest thing from Spam there is.

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