This is how women were made. Adam (the original #1 Dad) tore into his torso, Marilyn Manson style, and ripped himself out a mate. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. It was actually "God" who ripped the rib out of Adam's ridiculously toned torso. And it was "His" enlightened idea to create women. Just so Adam would stop "Diddling" the wildlife. Well, that's all just dogmatic semantics. The fact is chicks come from ribs. Like this one. They're born slathered in rosemary-infused barbecue sauce. They smell like hickory. They taste like magic and unicorns and Sunday afternoons. And when they touch you it feels like 8 million pins and needles thrashing about inside your penis. Wait, strike that. That last one was Chlamydia. Back to women. I could not think of a more suitable progenitor for them than the spare rib. Think about it. Both rate very high on the succulence scale. Both can be purchased in Chinatown for a nominal fee. And both always leave you in the end (pun very much intended). As for which one I prefer, women or ribs? I say eat one, snuggle the other. The only problem is my sheets always end up covered in glaze. Sad, gross and true. Just like auto-erotic asphyxiation.