French Market in Bath, England

We never even knew we'd been dreading this: the John Waters approach to suicide food.

One need not be possessed of a cinematic imagination or a taste for the tasteless to see in the coil of sausage something transgressive. Transgressive and excretory. Be honest: you do see it, yes? The robust, meaty, spiraling turd?

(Bravo to the proprietors for giving us something new. After so many tiresome pairings of sex with violence, someone had the guts to pair meat with shit. That is fearless ingenuity.)

After the eye lingers—far too long, we know—on that feculent monument, the adorable pig comes into view. And what is in her hand? We know what it is meant to be—a length of "delicious" "sausage." No matter how we interpret it, the little pat she gives her thigh or backside (or whatever) suggests only one thing:

"Eat up! Plenty more where that came from!"

(Thanks to Dr. Maureen for the referral and the photo.)








Addendum (2/10/09): Another instance of the same image (flipped). Must be a European meme. "I am delicious!" (Photo source.)