I wonder what my leg would taste like

The other day, while walking to my car from the library, I suddenly wondered, “I wonder what my leg would taste like.”  No, I don’t thrive on the macabre.  And I would sooner DIE A HUNDRED DEATHS before EVER eating human flesh.

The thought must have come from looking down at my calves, which I am trying to firm up with exercise.  Have you ever been creeped out by raw animal meat still on the bone?  Or even just raw meat?  That’s how my leg would look, if it were chopped up.  I would do very poorly as a long-ago pioneer traveling the plains or hunter because I just can’t look at dead animals – in whole or part – without connecting with it in a very visceral, spiritual sense.  It makes me sad.  It makes me sad because that animal lived, just like I live, and it walked and communicated and used its muscles, just like I do.  And now it is lifeless matter, just flesh and bones and blood.  Despite my feelings, my attempts at being vegetarian have been in vain.

If a dinosaur came along and ate me, I think my leg would taste pretty good.  Just enough muscle, and a good amount of fat to satisfy such a hungry creature.  I just hope I’d be dead and unconscious before he took a bite.