PET FOOD FOR PEOPLE

Dear Doc Flinkey,

Once again, I ask for your esteemed advice in a matter of some delicacy.

A good friend of mine, who has hitherto lived an unimpeachable life, has developed a strange new obsession. And frankly, I am deeply concerned for his welfare.

As a child, my friend had a penchant for dog cubes and cat biscuits. It started when his parents banned him from eating snack food as a result of some minor indiscretions on his part. He discovered that he could get stuck into the animal food without being caught, and ended up liking the stuff so much that he was still chowing down on them after the ban was lifted. His unwitting parents actually thought he was such a good boy for not eating junk food after the ban was lifted, that they rewarded him with a new bicycle. If they had only known the truth...

Anyway, as he grew up, his childhood love of animal food became a distant memory. But, I discovered recently that he is back on the stuff. Moreover, not only is he back on the stuff, but he reckons it tastes great, and that there is money to be made in preparing cat and dog food for humans. He told me that the only reason more people aren't eating cat and dog food is because of the warning on the labels, that reads "NOT FIT FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION". Therefore, he plans to start up a business making cat and dog biscuits for humans out of quality butchered meat, rather than whatever happens to be scraped up off the abbatoir floor.

He's got a whole heap of crazy slogans "Frimpy's dog cubes for people - brings out the GRRR in you!". Needless to say, all these slogans are dire. But he's already re-mortgaged his house to finance his new enterprise, and has quit his job at the belt factory. Lately, he's been talking to Dairy Bell about licensing a range of cat-biscuit flavoured ice-cream.

I worry for his children's future.

Please help,
hognogger

Dr Flinkey:

Dear Hoggy,

Not many people know (and those that have known have been found dead on regular occasions!) about the history of the term "NOT FIT FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION."

Let me begin at the beginning...

Before the introduction of manufactured pet foods, most dogs and cats lived off of grains, meats, table scraps and homemade food from their owners. It wasn’t until the mid-1800’s that the world saw its first food made specifically for dogs. An American electrician, James Spratt concocted the first dog treat. Living in London at the time, he witnessed dogs around a ship yard eating scraps of discarded biscuits. A light bulb went off in his head and shortly thereafter he introduced his dog food, made up of wheat meals, vegetables and meat. His company flourished and by 1890 he was taken over by a large corporation and production had begun in the United States as well.

But it wasn’t until the early 1900’s that pet food really caught on. Canned horse meat was introduced in the United States under the Ken-L-Ration brand after WWI as a means to dispose of deceased horses. The 1930’s saw the introduction of canned cat food and dry meat-meal dog food by the Gaines Food Co. During WWII metal used for cans was set aside for the war effort, which nearly ruined the canned pet food industry. But by the time WWII ended, pet food was off and running again, and sales had reached $200 million.

However, WWII was also a period where daily nutrition for humans was difficult to maintain. It was almost impossible to purchase seeds to grow fruit and vegetables and most produce grown was processed for the war effort. Fresh dairy and meat products were scarce. As a direct result, people became less healthy and the the criteria relevant to the war effort rejection process (not fit for active service) extended to include those who were nutritionally deficient. Obviously, a person who could not eat well enough to be healthy was not "fighting fit."

But a quite ingenious businessman (and proprietor of Perry Pee Pet Foods) Mister Perry Peewinkle Esq knew opportunity when it knocked. The fighters that Uncle Sam rejected, made Perry Pee the best. Perry posted prolific notices at armed forces recruitment centres offering the poor souls deemed unsuitable for the war effort a chance to contribute (themselves) to the glory of victory.

Thus the phrase "NOT FIT, FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION" was coined. Note the comma. Yes my dear Hoggy, rejected conscripts and volunteers in their thousands ended up as bully beef and rations!

The only things that have changed since these dark war years is:

(1) The source of the human resources that go into pet food. Today, in Australia, Centrelink is the prime supplier of downtrodden types to the pet food industry.

and

(2) The comma has been discreetly removed from NOT FIT, FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION

Ironically, as a result of dog health problems we’re now seeing a trend toward natural, holistic, raw, and yes, homemade, human-quality pet foods – not too different from the type of foods folks fed their pets before pet food ever existed.

So your fears are unfounded.

Your friend has actually been consuming processed human flesh, not dead horses and pig gristle and his new venture could help to rectify an ethical problem with current pet food processing practices.

THE EPIPHANY OF THE ORGAN

Dear Dr Flinkey,

I have a friend who seeks your aid in a rather sensitive matter.

He works for a well-known international fashion design house (well, OK, he empties the bins and mops the floors, but he is ambitious).

A couple of months ago, he casually mentioned to me that he was thinking of having his penis pierced. Naturally, I was pleased for him, and asked him to pass on my congratulations to his todger.

Last week, our paths crossed for the first time since then. His haggard, mottled face regarded me; his crazed eyes pleading for aid. I could see he was in some discomfort.

It appears that since he put the penis-ring in, his old fella has acquired a taste for accessories.

He first suspected that there could be a problem when he noticed some curious behaviour. While reading fashion magazines in the toilet, as he often does, he would sometimes catch his old fella peering over the toilet seat at the mags. Now, it is not that he minded sharing the magazines - he is a generous fellow, on the whole. It's just that he had to install a mop in his toilet soon after this behaviour started.

Before long, he found himself regularly waking up hung-over, after apparently sleeping with strange women. On the first occasion, he found he had slept with a tattooist, only to discover when he went home to take a shower, that his penis now had eyes, ears and a mouth. On the second occasion, he slept with someone who works at a follicular fusion treatment centre. His penis now has a fine head of hair. On the third occasion, he slept with a hairdresser, and discovered to his horror the next day that his penis had acquired a mohawk. On the fourth, he slept with a doll-maker, and, as a result, the penis now has arms and a leather jacket.

You see where I am going with this... Lately, the penis has been listening in on his private conversations with its tattooed ears, and looking at things it shouldn't see with its tattooed eyes. He is terribly afraid that one day his penis will start talking with its tattooed mouth. And goodness knows what it might do with its new arms. The penis is quickly becoming self-sufficient. All it requires now is a set of legs, and it will be able to walk out of his life forever.

What can be done? I hold grave fears for my friend, should this situation not be resolved in a timely fashion.

Yours ever,
hognogger

Dr Flinkey: Dear Hoggy,

Please do not be alarmed. This is in fact the fifth time this month that I have been approached in regards to this exact same complaint.

What people fail to realise is that peni are very sensitive creatures. Rub them the wrong way and they can become quite aggitated. They will often let loose with all kinds of dribble before withdrawing into themselves.

Also - as peni have been known to sometimes go off on their own - the addition of legs will not make much difference.

They are also headstrong little fellers. Once they have made their minds up to act, there is little chance of them stopping.

The solution is to go back to the initial issue - what change was introduced to the life of this penis that caused the behavioural problems?

The piercing of course. You cannot just go and pierce your knob without consulting with him about earrings, studs or sleepers. What is his preference?

But is is not too late.

I suggest that your friend start of with a nice gift. A single diamond stud will do nicely. Have him wrap it and leave it somewhere the penis will find it. Inside the cover of a porn mag is an obvious place. Make sure there is a card telling the penis how much he valued as a member of the family.

My hunch is the penis will be very pleased.

Your friend can then take him shopping - I believe large 60's style plastic hoops are back in fashion.

THE RESIDENT OF THE BRICK

Dear Dr Flinkey,

I don't know whether this will get through to you... I am transmitting via rather unorthodox means, but I will take the risk, as you are my only hope.

One morning last month, I awoke feeling rather lethargic... my first impulse was to stretch my tardy limbs, in the hope that this would enliven them and allow me to make my way out of bed.

But they weren't there!

In fact, nothing was there... I could feel nothing.

It took a couple of days for the indescribable horror to reveal itself. I was no longer in corporeal form. I shan't bore you with the tedious details of this realisation. The upshot is that my soul, or whatever it is that happens to form the seat of consciousness, is now located in a single brick near the back door of my house.

But my body lives on, animated by some other purpose. As to the origin of that purpose, I cannot say. For, surely as ever, my body continued to move around the house and go to work, just as it ever did. It even persisted in putting out the rubbish bins for collection at the appropriate time.

However, something is amiss - some strange force animates it. I know this now beyond all doubt. One evening last week, while stuck inside my brick, I observed my body sitting on the steps near the back door. It was carrying a suspicious package, which it laid beside it. The body then produced a hook. It proceeded to shove the hook up a nostril. In sheer captive terror, I watched as it drew my brain out of its protective shell, piece by piece, until there was no remainder. If that was not terrifying enough, it then proceeded to tamp at least fifty packages of white powder (via my nostrils) into the awaiting empty cranium. Then, it simply arose and returned inside, as if nothing had happened.

I have not seen my body for five days. I can only conclude that it is using my brain-case to conceal drugs, and has left the country.

And yet... greater horrors lay in store. I have discovered that I am not alone. The bricks adjoining my own are not unoccupied. Other souls are locked inside. They gibber. Is this my fate?

I now suspect that the house is playing some nefarious role in this mystery. Clearly, the gibberers are past occupants of the house. Like me, they have had their souls evicted from their bodies.

What is going on? And how can I escape from this brick, and reclaim my body before it is too late?

Or is it too late already? The cat ate what remained of my brain days ago.

Please help,
hognogger

Dr Flinkey: Thank you for your enquiry.

I started to imagine how you managed to type your plea for help when you have no physical form (apart from your brick skeleton) but it made my brain hurt so I stopped.

Assuming that this is a real problem, and not made up, I will provide the professional assistance you are, obviously, in dire need of.

First - let's review some apt lyrics:

"When we grew up and went to school, there were certain teachers who would hurt the children anyway they could
by pouring their derision upon anything we did
exposing any weakness however carefully hidden by the kids.

But in the town it was well known
When they got home at night their fat and psychopathic wives
Would thrash them within inches of their lives!

ooooooooooooo, oooooooo, ooooooooooo, ooooooooo, ooooooooo, ooooooooo,oooo.

We don't need no education
We don’t need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teacher! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

Wrong, Guess again!
Wrong, Guess again!
If you don't eat yer meat, you can't have any pudding.
How can you have any pudding if you don't eat yer meat?
You! Yes, you behind the bikesheds, stand still laddie!"

I have no doubt you were derided as a child. In fact, in light of the frequency and scope of your predicaments, you deserve a certain amount of derision as an adult.

The fact that you hid your weaknesses from peers and teachers, only to have them subsequently revealed by the teachers, has now come back to haunt you. Had you made your weaknesses overt, you would have baffled teachers and destroyed their evil plan to expose you. Further, peers would have left you alone - totally alone. The act of drawing attention to yourself would have led to your being isolated from those whould would otherwise deride you.

Teachers would have still been thrashed by their fat wives but they would not have had you as a target for bullying.

As a result of your submission to the system - you are just another brick in the wall.

Pink Floyd fans saw this as a metaphor when in fact it was quite literal. The only unknown for all is the timing and circumstance of the inevitable baked clay incarcaration. This is why there are others in your wall. They heard the lyrics as well and were automatically doomed to the same fate.

I hope the solution to this problem is self evident.

No?

Well, in light of your absence of brain matter, I will spell it out.

1. You or a friend should obtain an analogue copy of Just Another Brick in the Wall (digital will not work) and record it onto a computer audio work station.

2. Save the file as "Llaw eht ni Kcirb Rehtona Tsuj"

3. Open the file in a wave editor.

4. Reverse the wave and loop it.

5. Put the loop on continuous play (so that you can hear it from your brick.)

Once you have heard the song in reverse the exact same number of times you have heard it forwards, your body will come close to the wall and you can spirit yourself back into the body.

The downside is you will have no brain. That being said, I doubt anyone will miss it.

The upside is that, if the drugs are still in the brain cavity, you are in for an unplanned trip.

- Flink