Cows are amazing
I have to write something for my second speech at toastmasters. Well I have an idea, but I don’t know how to start…and all. So I decided to write a journal.
What I did today, I ate cow’s heart. Japanese people have some strange habit, eating strange food. If you find Japanese on a road or at a bar, you should ask if one has eaten bugs. Well ten to one, you will have an answer, yes. Have I? Yes of course. I don’t say I grew up with load of bugs in a jar on the kitchen table, but I occasionally had a chance to have bugs. You may want to say it’s not called a chance, that’s a bad luck. But you cannot refuse you friend holding fried bugs out to you with a big innocent smile. You don’t want to let him down or say shove off. Besides that bugs didn’t taste suck.
Back to cow’s heart; my father’s friend brought cow’s disgusting parts yesterday. I knew my father likes those things and so did his friend. Next day I found a bag of disgusting meat was gone (into his stomach) when I opened a fridge. I took one blackish lamp of meat out of the paper bag. That was part of a heart. It wasn’t bloody or anything and taste wise, the meat was just lean. I didn’t realize that was heart then but when I saw where I bit, there were lots of pipes. “what were these?” the answer came in a second into my brain. Blood vessels. That made me feel sick a second. I nearly took it back into the back so my father could have the rest. But being Japanese I felt I should’ve finished the meat. If you have Japanese friend and have a chance to go to a restaurant with, you should keep eyes on him. You will see he/she never fail to eat all food which is provided. Anyway, I ate the lump. It wasn’t bad.
I was still hungry. I looked into the bag again and saw if there was something I could eat other than heart. I found white looking meat. I took a piece and smelled—I cannot help but smell before eat. You don’t want to know what it smelled like. That instantly reminded me of cow’s shit—I had been working for a daily farm for some reason—made me gag. My mother was next to me and she said. “That’s cow’s intestine. Probably they didn’t wash that enough, so shit is still sticking on. Watch out” How could I? But being Japanese I couldn’t help but challenge. I ate it. I really hoped they washed it well and just the smell remained. I felt like eating cow’s shit to be honest. I even doubt if that was a real cow’s pat. I finished anyway, though.
By the time I recovered from cow’s astonishing skill of knocking you out, another friend of my father came and gave us another cow’s strange part of meat. No kidding. It really happened and I am pretty sure, I swear to God, that my father will finish them in a day or two.
What I did today, I ate cow’s heart. Japanese people have some strange habit, eating strange food. If you find Japanese on a road or at a bar, you should ask if one has eaten bugs. Well ten to one, you will have an answer, yes. Have I? Yes of course. I don’t say I grew up with load of bugs in a jar on the kitchen table, but I occasionally had a chance to have bugs. You may want to say it’s not called a chance, that’s a bad luck. But you cannot refuse you friend holding fried bugs out to you with a big innocent smile. You don’t want to let him down or say shove off. Besides that bugs didn’t taste suck.
Back to cow’s heart; my father’s friend brought cow’s disgusting parts yesterday. I knew my father likes those things and so did his friend. Next day I found a bag of disgusting meat was gone (into his stomach) when I opened a fridge. I took one blackish lamp of meat out of the paper bag. That was part of a heart. It wasn’t bloody or anything and taste wise, the meat was just lean. I didn’t realize that was heart then but when I saw where I bit, there were lots of pipes. “what were these?” the answer came in a second into my brain. Blood vessels. That made me feel sick a second. I nearly took it back into the back so my father could have the rest. But being Japanese I felt I should’ve finished the meat. If you have Japanese friend and have a chance to go to a restaurant with, you should keep eyes on him. You will see he/she never fail to eat all food which is provided. Anyway, I ate the lump. It wasn’t bad.
I was still hungry. I looked into the bag again and saw if there was something I could eat other than heart. I found white looking meat. I took a piece and smelled—I cannot help but smell before eat. You don’t want to know what it smelled like. That instantly reminded me of cow’s shit—I had been working for a daily farm for some reason—made me gag. My mother was next to me and she said. “That’s cow’s intestine. Probably they didn’t wash that enough, so shit is still sticking on. Watch out” How could I? But being Japanese I couldn’t help but challenge. I ate it. I really hoped they washed it well and just the smell remained. I felt like eating cow’s shit to be honest. I even doubt if that was a real cow’s pat. I finished anyway, though.
By the time I recovered from cow’s astonishing skill of knocking you out, another friend of my father came and gave us another cow’s strange part of meat. No kidding. It really happened and I am pretty sure, I swear to God, that my father will finish them in a day or two.
posted by TCK at 12:28 AM
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