Strange Debate

My friend and I were having a conversation about chicken because I had brought up what I had for dinner last night. Dave likes roasted chicken and I DO NOT, on account of all the nasty bones and tendons and gristle and fat. Now I know this is cause for some debate because I KNOW that chicken on the bone has more flavour than just skinless boneless hunks of delicious poultry. So please do not think that I do not understand this, I do. Its just, to me, I get really sick to my stomach when you have to pop legs out of joints and scrape your teeth against wings and remove fat from your mouth while you are eating. I prefer my chicken to look like nothing other than a pretty pink NOTHING, a blank canvas if you will, something that allows me to add my own flavours to it that do not taste like rotting dead corpse. I mean, uhhh, right, I said that chicken with the bone in tastes good, right.

This not only goes for chicken, but for ALL types of meat. A hamburger doesn't look like a face, nor do I have to strip anything away from a carcass to enjoy the meat in my mouth (oh!). I obviously realize that SOMEONE had to do this before I was able to enjoy my faceless meat, but hey, that's their prerogative. I appreciate that I don't have to. I guess this all stemmed from the fact that I didn't really enjoy meat when I was a kid. As soon as I was able to I started expressing the fact that I didn't like meat with fat or bones or any of that gory fun stuff. And then when I turned 15 I decided that I didn't want to eat it anymore (more for the fact that I felt bad about eating the animals but it helped that I didn't enjoy them). So I became a strict vegetarian for almost 15 years. My decision to eat meat again is just that, my own, but I am still unable to get away from the same things I found grody when I was a kid. Things that just like, totally gross me out the door and gag me with a spoon.

So yeah, that roasted chicken last night almost put me over the edge of not wanting to eat meat anymore. Not because I necessarily feel bad, but because I feel bad for my poor stomach when it tells me it wants to spread its contents all over my kitchen table.

So am I weird?