Seconds?

What would you think if, when invited to a dear friend's house for dinner, you were told the following:

Ted Nugent is my butcher.

(chewchewchewgulp)

Yum.

This bear/moose/bison/ocelot/boar/orang was lightly killed by the Motor City Madman with a bow and arrow/bowie knife/maul/industrial-sized shovel?

Really?

I have to admit that this is much more delicious than the swine Joe Cocker throttled for the fete he threw last week; and don't get me started about the texture of Billy Gibbon's 'Tube Snake Boogie' goulash.

(shudder)

T
(would you care for a doggie...er...uhm...Elk-y bag for your leftovers?)