By Peter Kuhn

By my reckoning it seems that there are at least three homeless per city block in our city of brotherly love. It has gone to the extent that I can’t go more than two blocks without being harassed for food, some time of warmth providing garment, or money for basic care. My goodness, is there no decency to give a man his privacy these days?! The infestation has gone too far I say. It is clear that city officials have failed in any and all attempts to solve the issue at hand. There is one solution and one solution only. We must sell the homeless as cash crop. A dear friend of mine from Sussex lauded me with tales refined of how the Prime Minister put into effect the very same concept! Not since the days of cotton and tobacco have we as Philadelphian’s seen such an abundant natural resource just waiting to be exploited for our personal gain as a commonwealth.

After considerable amounts of research, a few dozen sleepless nights, and a trip to the Library of Congress, I do believe I have come up with a plausible method for enacting my grand proposal. Now of course these fine ladies and gentlemen of the street will be rewarded for the delicious service they provide. I have calculated that a set rate of $500 a homeless is the going rate. However, varying BMI will most certainly set a curve of +/- $50. Also, it must be accounted for that the aesthetic value that an errant wayfarer provides is truly priceless. To remove all the dwelling deprived from the streets would irreversibly and negatively change the face of our lovely city! It is in my professional opinion that like any limited natural resource we must be frugal.

Although the meat is tough, from many seasoning seasons out on the streets, the protein content is off the charts. In our carbohydrate conscious Atkins society a protein rich homeless is a healthy alternative. For instance, the gustatory sensation that follows dining on a Girardian or Rittenhousian homeless is without question, divine. If you are still not convinced then please participate in the following exercise with me. If you will, close your eyes and imagine yourself, walking down Ben Franklin Parkway….

Sniff Sniff, “What is that mysterious and implacable odor that penetrates my nasal cavity?”

“Get your homies, we’ve got fried homies, steamed homies, grilled homies, roasted homies, homies on a bun, homies with fries, homies and chips…”

The vendors voice has faded now; you can no longer concentrate on his voice, because your animalistic urge to feast has spiraled your mind out of control. You begin to salivate, you black out, collapsing to the ground. When you come to, you have a steak with wiz, and fried onions on an Amoroso roll grasped in your hand. The only thing is, it’s not just any old beefsteak, it’s Philadelphian Homeless Beefsteak. You also notice that the streets are visibly cleaner, and the sounds of sirens no longer fill the air, the sun is shining, birds are singing and children are playing.

I pray that some day you will get to actually experience what I have described to you. The gastronomic delight you will feel is celestial! Aside from the obvious monetary benefits from exporting our homeless, the art of meat will exponentially improve. See, in your minds eye, blissful bacon, fabulous filet, seasoned steak, broiled brisket, ravishing ribs, and succulent sausages, just to name a few. Not to mention the tender vitello from our younger homeless population. I find myself shaking with excitement at just the thought of this proposal in action! But I digress, I must retire! People of Philadelphia! Let us unite together, to serve the homeless! 

No related posts.