Poor Mr. Hawthorne.

Here's Mr. Hawthorne, reading my last post and reacting to it.

You could actually see the color drain from his face as he scrolled down.

"Oh, jeeze, it looks like something leftover from a coroner's office. The only thing missing is the jar of formaldehyde."

"Oh God, it looks like a FETUS!"

"Oh My GOD! It has a membrane."

"Oh ... OH ... OHHHHH! No fucking way a carrot and celery is gonna help that shit."

"Stupid me. I knew you didn't have to soak veal scallopini in water."

"You tricked me, BITCH!"

"Imonna sue Coastal Provisions for organ substitution and false labeling!"

"WHAT??? You paid 20 fuckin' dollars for that?"

"Thymus gland. That's that little sac that holds sperm, isn't it?"

"OH NO. I think Imonna throw up."

"Where's my colon cleanse?
I need my colon cleanse.
I gotta get this shit out of my system."

Poor, poor Mr. Hawthorne.

Mr. Hawthorne's going to have nightmares about this.

Now, the funny thing is, he LOVED it when he was eating it, thinking it was veal, which it IS.
Now, he refuses to eat it.
I honestly thought he was going to throw up while reading the post.
Hmmm ... what can I feed him next?
Any suggestions?

Maybe Carol could invite him for dinner.