And I thought that shoving my hands into the gloppy, squidgy mixture of raw meat and eggs and milk and breadcrumbs was the most icky-awesome thing in the world.

Yep -- this is my job whenever we make squidged-meat dinner. (Meatloaf, swedish meatballs, etc.) Satisfying in a very primal way.

And I think we have that crockpot cookbook somewhere. I clearly should actually look into it sometime...