JW is still 12. Peter is 11

So last night we had a big Argentine BBQ with the roommates. It’s their thing here. They start the fire about 10 PM, cook till 12 and you eat at 1 in the morning. And they cook up a massive spread of animal flesh; cicken, chorizo, blood sausages, beef, pork, the whole nine. They also have a little section of the grill where they cook up some innards, like intestine and stomach lining and livers.

Well, because we are the crazy American boys with the internet business we were invited of course and for some reason kept on getting things dumped onto our plates. This is usually a good thing since I like a good piece if meat as much as the next guy but before the night was over I found myself staring down into a chunk of animal gut, which I was expected to eat. I have never eaten intestine and I’m not sure why people would want to eat it, but I am also not about to be rude and not eat the shit. So I cut a piece and put it in my mouth. An explosion of flavor hit my palate and I nearly gagged. The skin of the intestine was tough, like leather and when you bit into it, the insides would shoot out into your mouth. It was like a paste, of horrible consistency and texture. I couldn’t do it. The gags came, and it took all my man power not to retch onto the dinner table. Nobody was watching me so I got up, ran into the kitchen, spit the shit into the trash and washed out my mouth with water for a good minute or two while my eyes watered.

When I came back, Peter knew what was up and he asked me how it tasted. I hardly had the words to describe it so I just told him he would have to experience it for himself. But Peter just pushed his intestine around his plate until it was well positioned under a chicken bone, in the scraps section of the plate.

At the end of the night, one of the roommates, Javier, went around to the plates and took off all the scraps that were partially eatable and put them in a bag for the dog. But he left Peters intestine. Not even the dogs will eat that shit.