Scott

“went with you or not.” “But what would happen if you quit him and stayed here in Marseille?” “I don’t care.” Aslima began dancing round the room singing a pig-song in her language which is something like this translated: Want to know what’s loving sweet, Want to know what’s loving big? When two naughty lovers meet And unite in loving pigs.”
― Claude McKay, Romance in Marseille

“Then after they had danced the papas laid them down on their backs on some narrow stones of sacrifice and, cutting open their chests, drew out their palpitating hearts which they offered to the idols before them. Then they kicked the bodies down the steps, and the Indian butchers who were waiting below cut off their arms and legs and flayed their faces, which they afterwards prepared like glove leather, with their beards on, and kept for their drunken festivals. Then they ate their flesh with a sauce of peppers and tomatoes. They sacrificed all our men in this way, eating their legs and arms, offering their hearts and blood to their idols as I have said, and throwing their trunks and entrails to the lions and tigers and serpents and snakes that they kept in the wild-beast houses I have described in an earlier chapter.”
― Bernal Díaz del Castillo, The Conquest of New Spain

“The “Johnson family” became so numerous that a “convention” must be held. In any well-ordered convention all persons of suspicious or doubtful intentions are thrown out at the start. When a bums’ “convention” is to be held, the jungle is first cleared of all outsiders such as “gay cats,” “dingbats,” “whangs,” “bindle stiffs,” “jungle buzzards,” and “scissors bills.” Conventions are not so popular in these droughty days. Formerly kegs of beer were rolled into the jungle and the “punks,” young bums, were sent for “mickies,” bottles of alcohol. “Mulligans” of chicken or beef were put to cooking on big fires. There was a general boiling up of clothes and there was shaving and sometimes haircutting.”
― Jack Black, You Can't Win

“Kid,” said George, when I asked him about the cook. “He’s crazy as a bedbug and the best ‘mulligan’ maker on the road. ‘Montana Blacky’ is welcome at any bum camp anywhere, and he spends his life going from jungle to jungle.”
― Jack Black, You Can't Win