Not, I repeat, NOT my job, but...A similar discussion I recall in Alt-Tasteless. Ah, Googling produces this from ygrii...
I used to have a job giving enemas to dead turkeys.
Nothing too remarkable about it. The turkeys hung from metal racks. As the rack clanked by, I stuck a water probe up dead turkey asses. About every fourth or fifth insertion, I'd be rewarded with a splurt of foul green
turkey shit.
Further down the line were a couple of women who scooped out the dead turkey guts. They usually didn't wear gloves as they claimed their bare hands provided a better grip for tussling with intestines and gizzards. When break time arrived, they'd merely rinse off their hands. Then they'd sit in the break room gnawing their nails.
(I used to have a job giving enemas to dead turkeys.
Nothing too remarkable about it. The turkeys hung from metal racks. As the rack clanked by, I stuck a water probe up dead turkey asses. About every fourth or fifth insertion, I'd be rewarded with a splurt of foul green
turkey shit.
Further down the line were a couple of women who scooped out the dead turkey guts. They usually didn't wear gloves as they claimed their bare hands provided a better grip for tussling with intestines and gizzards. When break time arrived, they'd merely rinse off their hands. Then they'd sit in the break room gnawing their nails.
Tepid_Halibut felt like a cold, empty shell of a human...until,
Mon 10 Nov 2003, 16:14,
archived)