"Dude, What The F*** Is Wrong With German People?"

By sheerest coincidence, I was thinking about a scene this morning from the movie South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut. The kids are surfing on the Internet, and stumble across a German scheisse video. (Just think "poo" and Cartman's mom, and you'll have all the information you need.) As they scream in horror and quickly click away, one of the kids exclaims: "Dude, what the f*** is wrong with German people?"

And then, this afternoon, I stumbled across this story, and asked myself the same question.

A convicted German cannibal returned to court on Thursday for a retrial to determine if his killing and eating of a willing victim amounted to murder.

Oooookay ...

The bizarre case of sexual fetishism and gory details of the crime have transfixed the public in Germany and beyond, while legal experts have argued over the definition of murder.

"Sexual fetishism"? Uh oh ...

He has admitted killing Berlin-based computer specialist Bernd-Juergen Brandes but had been spared a murder conviction and a possible life sentence as the victim had yearned to be eaten.

"Yearned to be ..." WHAT, now?

Surely I'm reading this wrong. Surely the victim chose the wrong person to say "bite me" to, or maybe this was a sauce-mixing adventure gone horribly awry. But no ... we're dealing with a guy who wanted to be eaten, as in consumed, for ... sexual gratification?

But wait, the story continues. Oh, joy.

Lawyer Harald Ermel acknowledged his client had a “fetish for human flesh”, but said he was no longer a threat. “Under the same circumstances he would never do something like that again,” he said.

Uh ... yeah, sure. Being arrested and tried for murder is a pretty strong deterrent for that sort of thing.

"Defense counsel?" "Yes, your Honor?" "Would you ask your client to stop rubbing A-1 Sauce on the court reporter, please?"

(Those of you with more delicate constitutions may want to skip the next paragraph ...)

In a “slaughter room” fitted out with butcher’s bench, meat hook and cage, Meiwes severed Brandt’s penis and they both tried to eat it.

They ... both ... tried ... to ...

... ick.

I have heard of lots of warped sexual fetishes in my 42 years. I have never in my life heard of anybody who ever wanted to CONSUME THEIR OWN PENIS. Sure, Ron Jeremy's porn career was built on his interesting ability to put his own in his mouth (or so I've heard) ... but to take a big healthy chaw out of it? Most men are far too attached to their member to want to be detached from it, let alone to make sashimi out of it.

But wait, there's more. (Of course there is.)

“Due to the consistency of the penis, this did not succeed, either raw or fried,” Koehler said.

Okay gang, listen up. I am a pretty darn good chef. I have studied cuisines from all over the world. I have put things in my mouth that-- (wait, that would be a very unfortunate metaphor for this discussion.) Suffice it to say that I have even eaten Cajun food. But I have never come across any recipes for "chicken-fried penis". Not ONE. (Not human penises, anyway. Or is the correct plural "penii"?)

Besides, perhaps I'm being too harsh on ol' Bernd-Juergen. Perhaps it wasn't chicken-fried at all. Perhaps a light pan-frying is all that a good "filet of trouser snake" requires. Obviously, though, "tenderness" is not necessarily a desired quality in this dish ...

When Brandt fell unconscious, Meiwes slit his throat, pulled out his organs and chopped off his head. The next day, he froze portions of his flesh, eating some 44 pounds of it over following months.

My only thought -- the only one that could do justice to this sort of thing -- is that by waiting until the next day to freeze his kitchen sidekick, Emeril here is just begging for some kind of sick, twisted parasite to infect his ... sick, twisted body. (Okay, it makes perfect sense now.)

I think we can all agree that both cannibal Meiwes and victim -- 'scuse me, sexual partner Brandes are, or were, a couple of truly warped individuals. And perhaps you may be thinking that because I took the time to bring this story to your attention, I must be a sick bastard as well. (And please leave my last name out of this.)

But remember, oh ye in glass houses: You read this entry all the way to the end, now didn't you? You sick f*** ...