How to Cook a Cow Head

About two years ago, while living in Oregon, I saw something that forever scared my psyche. I won't give the name of the town, but I'll tell you that it was known all over the state for it's unpleasant smell. The smell wasn't the only thing wrong with this town, but most of its other problems were shared by ever other city in Oregon, so the unbearable stench became this towns defining characteristic.

Having grown up in this town I didn't fully realize what a disturbing place it was in which I lived. Having already suffered enormously that year, the naïve worldview I had enjoyed my whole life finally collapsed on that night in December.

I was living in my apartment; a small one bedroom conveniently located about one block from a titanium factory. This was a brand new apartment complex, and one of the more expensive places in town. My girlfriend and I were only approved because the management was attempting to quickly recover from initial construction, and therefore approving anyone who didn't have blood on their hands.

We had tried to live at several cheaper and considerably dumpier apartments, including a couple that should have been condemned. Aside from a place that had paper thin walls and a bathtub that was about to fall through the floor, nowhere in town was going to let us move in. Most places wanted an A1 credit rating, and sixty years rental history. So after the paper-thin-wall place finally turned us down, we were forced to move into the most expensive apartment in town.