When you think of it, there are only two things you need to make people. You got to have sex. You got to have food. That’s it. You don’t need clothing, shelter, or TV. Okay, maybe TV, but otherwise, it’s sex and food.
But for some reason, sex is “dirty”.
Somebody said, “All right, you want to propagate, go ahead, but only late at night, with all the doors closed, the lights off, the man on top — once a week, and that’s it.”
But not only can you eat the charred decaying flesh of other major mammals, you can do it in broad daylight and invite all your friends to watch:
“Hey, Chuck, why don’t you come over on Sunday? We’re going to kill a pig, cut him up, burn him, and eat him. Bring the kids. We’ll have a hell of a time.”
What if they had been switched around? What if, through a simple twist of fate, sex was clean but food was dirty? Our entire culture would change. Food would become a four-letter word.
When people got angry at you, they’d yell out “Oh yeah? Well, food you. Suck cheese you Popsicle slurper.”
Punks in passing cars would flip you the fork.
Flashers would have pizzas strapped to their chests. “Ohmigod. It’s a pepperoni.”
Locker room talk would change. “Hey, man, how’d you do this weekend?” “Two burgers and a bag of fries. Crinkle cut.”
Garlic would be illegal in most Southern states.
Supermarkets would check I.D.’s and charge admission to the poultry section.
Frederick’s of Hollywood would feature peekaboo napkins and day-of-the-week paper plates.
Foreplay would be listed as a menu selection.
Vice squads would conduct raids on backyard barbecues. “All right, put down your meat. Just back away from the buns, mister.”
Vegetarians would be prohibited from becoming teachers and a lot of them would move to the Bay Area.
Hookers would become cooks. You’d be accosted on street corners by plump ladies in day-Glo aprons. “Hey, big boy, looking for a hot meal? Wanna crack some crab?”
Many sexual positions would be found to be carcinogenic.
Parents would tell their children not to play with their food or they’ll go blind.
And most of all…
Kids would remember the first time their mother caught them marinating.