First, the good news. It is with great honor that we have the return of a reader who has long been missed. For several months now, our viewership has been without the noble Austrian influence that lifts it above the meandering comments of bored college students and into the level of international diplomacy.
We have another Austrian reader! Exactly one. Whoopee!
I'm bringing Austrians back
Yeah
Those other Europeans don't know what they're missing
Yeah
Don't worry, that rhymes in Austrian.
But now the bad news. Geico just fucked me over.
And some more bad news. As some of our regular readers out there might know, this blog has, since its inception, been submitted by three distinguished personages: Joe, Rob, and Matt. But this is misleading, since out of 31 posts so far (wow, thats not too bad), only five have been posted by this Matt person.
We view this as unacceptable. No Joe, we're in this together!
And so, Matt, you're on suspension. Life's Too Short to wait for you to blog. Goodbye my love.
But we still think three is a good number to have. I've been trying to tell my girlfriend that for months. And so we're having open tryouts (just like that Invincible movie, exactly the same thing). So if you're interested, send a sample post to ltsfts@gmail.com. We'll post all the funny ones, and the best will be hired on to complete the trio.
They will get fame, friends, and fortune. Thats right, forture. So far we've made about $11 from the ads....split that three ways.....we can each get some Silly Putty.
We'll only post if its kinda funny. It'll still be better than Joe's. That State Fair thing was boring as hell, Joe.
Oh, stop whining.
Byah!
Rob
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
History Lesson
I love history, I think it's fascinating. It's like, woah, that happened, ya know? I like hearing individual stories about different time periods, really try to experiene what happened. Anyway, this blog is devoted to sharing some of my favorite stories with you all. And they are all absolutely true.....
ROME
All of the information we have on Rome comes from texts written centuries later, from looking at the three types of columns, and from pictures on pots. But the big thing everyone knows about Rome are the GLADIATORS. And there actually is one surviving account of a gladiator owner named Ashius.
Ashius was an industrius gladiator trainer, and he went over all of Rome capturing and training as many gladiators as he could. You could say, in fact, that he had to catch them all. His first, and favorite, gladiator was named Pikachues. So they went around the Roman empire challenging as many other trainers as they could.
When Ashius found someone to fight in an arena, he would yell "Go get 'em Pickachues!" And as Pikachues would fight, Ashius would yell things like "Use Quick Attack Pikachues!"
Anyway, long story short, they were crucified.
MIDDLE AGES
The feudal system was big back then. The basic idea behind it is fairly well known, but I'll give you a basic explanation. The King is the big man, with many lands and vassals. Now he sets up this system where he recruits ten Lords to be part of his plan.
Each of these ten Lords pays the King 10 dollars to be part of the plan. The King then tells each of them to recruit ten more people, getting ten dollars from each of them, except the King gets a cut.
So each of these Lords each go and recruit ten Knights, getting ten dollars from each of them and giving 20% of their earnings to the King.
And now each of these Knights go and recruit ten Serfs with the same proposal.
And then one of the serfs says, "Hey, this is fucking stupid!"
REFORMATION
I know a lot of people don't really know what the Reformation was, so I'll tell you. It was a true tale of perseverence: about fighting a corrupted dogma and about getting ideas about personal salvation out there.
I mean sure there were the wars, massacres, guillotines, and wasps later on, but what I'm talking about is the the thing that started it all. That thing was Martin Luther getting a copy of the 95 Theses on those big church doors. This dissertation was a tirade against indulgences, church corruption, and Michael Bay movies.
What people don't know is that it took him a few tries to get the Theses on the door.
First he tried a sticky notes. But each Theses needed its own sticky note, and eventually a stiff wind scattered all 95 of them across Europe.
Then he tried putting up a dry erase board, and writing it all there on the spot. That way, if he wanted to, he could go back and erase one if he thought #43 just wasn't Theses-material. But that failed because somebody came during the night, wiped it all off, and drew a big penis. It was still signed by Martin Luther though, so he was really embarassed.
But finally after several more failed attempts, he got a brilliant idea. And with much dignity he NAILED his 95 Theses to the church doors. And from that moment on, European politics has been delicately intertwined with Home Depot.
OLD WEST
Saddles, leather chaps, stirrups, cattle prods. You have to pay good money to get to use that stuff now-a-days, and for entirely different reasons.
Every Old West movie I've ever seen had a good old-fashioned duel at the end. Two guys staring each other down in the middle of a deserted mining town. Old prospecters wimpering in the windows. The aged doctor with the spectacles wisely looking on. And the schoolmarm Miss Rosie begging Clint not to do it.
Sidenote: Nobody has ever cared to tell me why there's a schoomarm in a town where there aren't any kids...or women to make the kids....except the schoolmarm.....oooh....that's thinking ahead right there.
But these Old West showdowns weren't always so formulaic. The standards were set March 15, 1869. Billy the Kid was gonna have a shootout with Jack the Adolescent. The dispute was over copyright infringement.
The fight started the night before:
BILLY: sup
JACK: how do you think you did on the schoomarm's geometry test?
BILLY: not too bad
JACK: lol
BILLY: why did you lol there? it wasn't funny, you're just a fuckin retard
JACK: fuck you
BILLY: alright then, we're shootin this out tomorrow at noon
JACK: high noon?
BILLY: fuck yeah
And so the two met at high noon, and they started the duel. Billy the Kid laid down the rules: "....and we'll each walk 20 paces, turn, and DRAW." Jack the Adolescent agreed, and so they measured their paces. At twenty, they turned and faced each other. Neither made a move as they stared each other down.
"This town ain't big enough for the two of us," said Jack the Adolescent.
........."What?!" yelled back Billy.
"I said this TOWN ain't big enough for the TWO of us!"
"I can't really hear you! Maybe next time we should measure ten paces instead!"
"Okay."
BAM!
WORLD WAR II
For anybody who doesn't think sequels ever do better than the originals.
So the French were still recoiling, Britain and America were doing their best along the western front, America was island hopping in the Pacific, and Russia was losing millions along the eastern front.
At this time, some of their allies were cramped in a bunker: Pierre Auture of Canada, Esteban Cuertes of Guatemala, and Ali Khal of Saudi Arabia. They looked at each other until Esteban asked, "Hey, do you think anybody would notice if we left?"
THE FUTURE
The crisis in the Middle East will have come to a head. Another world conflict will seem inevitable as negotiations are coming to naught and the world's economic instability seems certain to drive all the nations of the world into chaos.
But then, the current President of the United States (all 49 of them, Kansas seceeded, so America now looks like a donut with Alaska and Hawaii being the sprinkles that fell off) will make a speech. Not just any speech, but an impassioned speech that will be a symbol for the end of the conflict in the Middle East
He/she will raise a white/black hand and finish the speech: "Mr. Ahmadinejad, TEAR DOWN THIS TENT!"
Thats history for ya
Byah!
Rob
ROME
All of the information we have on Rome comes from texts written centuries later, from looking at the three types of columns, and from pictures on pots. But the big thing everyone knows about Rome are the GLADIATORS. And there actually is one surviving account of a gladiator owner named Ashius.
Ashius was an industrius gladiator trainer, and he went over all of Rome capturing and training as many gladiators as he could. You could say, in fact, that he had to catch them all. His first, and favorite, gladiator was named Pikachues. So they went around the Roman empire challenging as many other trainers as they could.
When Ashius found someone to fight in an arena, he would yell "Go get 'em Pickachues!" And as Pikachues would fight, Ashius would yell things like "Use Quick Attack Pikachues!"
Anyway, long story short, they were crucified.
MIDDLE AGES
The feudal system was big back then. The basic idea behind it is fairly well known, but I'll give you a basic explanation. The King is the big man, with many lands and vassals. Now he sets up this system where he recruits ten Lords to be part of his plan.
Each of these ten Lords pays the King 10 dollars to be part of the plan. The King then tells each of them to recruit ten more people, getting ten dollars from each of them, except the King gets a cut.
So each of these Lords each go and recruit ten Knights, getting ten dollars from each of them and giving 20% of their earnings to the King.
And now each of these Knights go and recruit ten Serfs with the same proposal.
And then one of the serfs says, "Hey, this is fucking stupid!"
REFORMATION
I know a lot of people don't really know what the Reformation was, so I'll tell you. It was a true tale of perseverence: about fighting a corrupted dogma and about getting ideas about personal salvation out there.
I mean sure there were the wars, massacres, guillotines, and wasps later on, but what I'm talking about is the the thing that started it all. That thing was Martin Luther getting a copy of the 95 Theses on those big church doors. This dissertation was a tirade against indulgences, church corruption, and Michael Bay movies.
What people don't know is that it took him a few tries to get the Theses on the door.
First he tried a sticky notes. But each Theses needed its own sticky note, and eventually a stiff wind scattered all 95 of them across Europe.
Then he tried putting up a dry erase board, and writing it all there on the spot. That way, if he wanted to, he could go back and erase one if he thought #43 just wasn't Theses-material. But that failed because somebody came during the night, wiped it all off, and drew a big penis. It was still signed by Martin Luther though, so he was really embarassed.
But finally after several more failed attempts, he got a brilliant idea. And with much dignity he NAILED his 95 Theses to the church doors. And from that moment on, European politics has been delicately intertwined with Home Depot.
OLD WEST
Saddles, leather chaps, stirrups, cattle prods. You have to pay good money to get to use that stuff now-a-days, and for entirely different reasons.
Every Old West movie I've ever seen had a good old-fashioned duel at the end. Two guys staring each other down in the middle of a deserted mining town. Old prospecters wimpering in the windows. The aged doctor with the spectacles wisely looking on. And the schoolmarm Miss Rosie begging Clint not to do it.
Sidenote: Nobody has ever cared to tell me why there's a schoomarm in a town where there aren't any kids...or women to make the kids....except the schoolmarm.....oooh....that's thinking ahead right there.
But these Old West showdowns weren't always so formulaic. The standards were set March 15, 1869. Billy the Kid was gonna have a shootout with Jack the Adolescent. The dispute was over copyright infringement.
The fight started the night before:
BILLY: sup
JACK: how do you think you did on the schoomarm's geometry test?
BILLY: not too bad
JACK: lol
BILLY: why did you lol there? it wasn't funny, you're just a fuckin retard
JACK: fuck you
BILLY: alright then, we're shootin this out tomorrow at noon
JACK: high noon?
BILLY: fuck yeah
And so the two met at high noon, and they started the duel. Billy the Kid laid down the rules: "....and we'll each walk 20 paces, turn, and DRAW." Jack the Adolescent agreed, and so they measured their paces. At twenty, they turned and faced each other. Neither made a move as they stared each other down.
"This town ain't big enough for the two of us," said Jack the Adolescent.
........."What?!" yelled back Billy.
"I said this TOWN ain't big enough for the TWO of us!"
"I can't really hear you! Maybe next time we should measure ten paces instead!"
"Okay."
BAM!
WORLD WAR II
For anybody who doesn't think sequels ever do better than the originals.
So the French were still recoiling, Britain and America were doing their best along the western front, America was island hopping in the Pacific, and Russia was losing millions along the eastern front.
At this time, some of their allies were cramped in a bunker: Pierre Auture of Canada, Esteban Cuertes of Guatemala, and Ali Khal of Saudi Arabia. They looked at each other until Esteban asked, "Hey, do you think anybody would notice if we left?"
THE FUTURE
The crisis in the Middle East will have come to a head. Another world conflict will seem inevitable as negotiations are coming to naught and the world's economic instability seems certain to drive all the nations of the world into chaos.
But then, the current President of the United States (all 49 of them, Kansas seceeded, so America now looks like a donut with Alaska and Hawaii being the sprinkles that fell off) will make a speech. Not just any speech, but an impassioned speech that will be a symbol for the end of the conflict in the Middle East
He/she will raise a white/black hand and finish the speech: "Mr. Ahmadinejad, TEAR DOWN THIS TENT!"
Thats history for ya
Byah!
Rob
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Questions
My friends ask me a lot of questions.
Sometimes, a friend will ask me, "Excuse me sir, do you have the time?" And I oblige them, because thats the kind of friend I am.
Sometimes, a friend will ask me, "Rob, what makes you such a good friend?" And I will reply in question, "Who says I'm your friend?" And I will walk away.
And then there are other times when a friend will ask me, "Bobby do you have any good peeing stories?"
"Why yes....
.....yes I do."
Sidenote: This question was asked as I was hanging out with some guys who wrestled in high school and who lift a lot now.
Sidenote to the Sidenote, which means an italicized italic is normal font: Whenever I picture wrestling, I don't picture a real sport, I don't even picture Hulk Hogan....I picture Tickle Fights....and those end even bloodier.
Return to Sidenote: As I was hanging out with these guys, they started into the stories. And as time went on, I realized that the majority of these stories involved anorexia, binge eating, and a lot of unexpected poopage in public settings. As time continued to go on, they realized I had not contributed to the stories, and asked why. I replied that I had control of my bowels and had never accidentally stained myself at a barbecue. They paused for a second, and then asked the question which is the subject of this blog.
There are, in fact, two stories that fit the title as peeing stories. Neither of them cast me in a particularly good light. Anybody wishing to hire me or are interested in me sexually should stop reading right now.
The first incident occurred when I was nine years old. We had just started Sex Ed. This was an abbreviation for Sexual Education, something I did not realize until I was eleven. Needless to say, nine is a bit young for this kind of thing. I could have gotten a parental note and gone to the library, but only the loser kids did that. As classes went on, there were a lot of terms being thrown about the room. Words like erection and intercourse and masturbation. At nine, I had no idea what any of these things were. Raised a Catholic, I thought masturbation is what came after confirmation. I wish that line was a joke I invented. I also wish this next line was too. I asked my priest about it.
I definetly remember that our Sex Ed teacher was of a creative spirit, and decided to teach us a song about sex. PTSD has driven most of it from my mind, but one of the lyrics was: "And then mommy and daddy might decide, just maybe / to get together and have themselves a baby." Powerful stuff.
Another Sex Ed teacher later in life described menustration to us. It was the most brilliant thing I'd ever heard from a seven foot tall football coach with a thyroid condition. He described it as Michael Jordan coming to a party. And when MJ was there, everyone is excited and the party is jumpin. But then MJ decides to leave, and when he goes, the whole party goes out with him ..... until the next party.....Wow.....Awesome.
OK, well, basic idea so far is that I had no idea what any of this stuff meant at the tender age of nine. And then I heard about Wet Dreams. The basic gist of it was: when you start to become a man, its not unusual to have wet dreams in your sleep. And of course they showed a video which consisted of an embarassed kid and soiled sheets. Now, at nine, not everything works the way you want it to, and some of you right now are remembering what the original topic of this blog was. Shortly thereafter, in the comfort of my own home and the innocence of youth, I wet the bed. IT IS NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF!
I wake up, and see a giant wet spot on my bed .....
.......
......"MOM! MOM! I'M A MAN!"
My second story occurred at a much more mature age. And by mature, I mean I am now in full mastery of terms such as masturbation, wet dreams, and Michael Jordan.
I am now at the near adult age of 19. And, as one might expect, this story involves alcohol. For sake of legalities, I will say I live in Canada. And if you discover I don't live in Canada, I will say that i wasn't drunk....I was stoned. So I have all of my bases covered.
I was in some form of intoxication on a lovely friday night at a buddy's party. After being stopped from playing darts in a crowded room ("No man, I'll just throw it over them"), I apparently disappeared for several hours. My loyal friends (who also happen to be the same people who asked the original question for this post) didn't give a shit. Eventually my friend's girlfriend, "Keri", found me at 2 AM, and made me lie down on the couch. She placed a wastebasket by my head and a glass of water on a table. Nice girl.
Now there is some dispute with this story. I wake up some hours later, with what can only be described as a damp crotch. The glass at the table was empty. Either I spilled the glass on myself, or I did the thing that made this story qualify for this blog.
Sidenote: Yeah, I pissed myself.
I can't go back to sleep like this, so I try to go dry myself off. Keep in mind, I'm still messed up. I take off my pants......I'll let that image sink in.......and proceed to the kitchen. Now, it's very dark, and I can't for the life of me find the light switch. Giving up, I open the fridge and use that light. I begin trying to sop up my pants with a roll of Bounty paper towels with no success, partly due to the fact that it was still unopened in the plastic wrap.
All of a sudden, "Keri" walks in. Try to imagine the scene. It's probably about 4 AM, I'm bathed in the pale light of the refrigerator, in my boxers, drying off wet jeans with a plastic-wrapped roll of paper towels.
No words were really necessary. She opened the paper towels, flicked on the lights, closed the fridge, and walked away muttering something about the Irish.
Now with the use of actual paper towels, I proceed with the drying. After ten minutes, I realize that it wasn't working very well. And this is when the most brilliant of brilliant ideas sprang to mind. My eyes settled on the microwave. A second later I was shoving my pants in the microwave like the Grinch shoving a Christmas tree up a chimney. I set the cooktime at popcorn, and waited.
Looking back, my pants should probably have exploded. Luckily it did not. After the bell dinged, I started taking my pants out of the microwave (what a strange sentence). Readers, you know that glass plate that spins on the bottom of a lot of microwaves? The thing that isn't actually attached to anything? Well, as I pulled the pants out, this thing came with it. It fell...and CRASHED on the counter, glass shards going everywhere! And I freeze. There isn't a sound in the whole place. Is everyone asleep?
Now here is what my mind is thinking: OK, I'll throw all the pieces out the window....And say somebody stole it! ...... BRILLIANT! .... Unfortunately my plan was ruined as "Keri" once again came around the corner ...looking very tired.
I am clutching my trousers (which were still soggy), still in my boxers, surrounded by glass shards, and I look her dead in the face and say, "I tried to cook my pants."
Byah!
.....damn
Sometimes, a friend will ask me, "Excuse me sir, do you have the time?" And I oblige them, because thats the kind of friend I am.
Sometimes, a friend will ask me, "Rob, what makes you such a good friend?" And I will reply in question, "Who says I'm your friend?" And I will walk away.
And then there are other times when a friend will ask me, "Bobby do you have any good peeing stories?"
"Why yes....
.....yes I do."
Sidenote: This question was asked as I was hanging out with some guys who wrestled in high school and who lift a lot now.
Sidenote to the Sidenote, which means an italicized italic is normal font: Whenever I picture wrestling, I don't picture a real sport, I don't even picture Hulk Hogan....I picture Tickle Fights....and those end even bloodier.
Return to Sidenote: As I was hanging out with these guys, they started into the stories. And as time went on, I realized that the majority of these stories involved anorexia, binge eating, and a lot of unexpected poopage in public settings. As time continued to go on, they realized I had not contributed to the stories, and asked why. I replied that I had control of my bowels and had never accidentally stained myself at a barbecue. They paused for a second, and then asked the question which is the subject of this blog.
There are, in fact, two stories that fit the title as peeing stories. Neither of them cast me in a particularly good light. Anybody wishing to hire me or are interested in me sexually should stop reading right now.
The first incident occurred when I was nine years old. We had just started Sex Ed. This was an abbreviation for Sexual Education, something I did not realize until I was eleven. Needless to say, nine is a bit young for this kind of thing. I could have gotten a parental note and gone to the library, but only the loser kids did that. As classes went on, there were a lot of terms being thrown about the room. Words like erection and intercourse and masturbation. At nine, I had no idea what any of these things were. Raised a Catholic, I thought masturbation is what came after confirmation. I wish that line was a joke I invented. I also wish this next line was too. I asked my priest about it.
I definetly remember that our Sex Ed teacher was of a creative spirit, and decided to teach us a song about sex. PTSD has driven most of it from my mind, but one of the lyrics was: "And then mommy and daddy might decide, just maybe / to get together and have themselves a baby." Powerful stuff.
Another Sex Ed teacher later in life described menustration to us. It was the most brilliant thing I'd ever heard from a seven foot tall football coach with a thyroid condition. He described it as Michael Jordan coming to a party. And when MJ was there, everyone is excited and the party is jumpin. But then MJ decides to leave, and when he goes, the whole party goes out with him ..... until the next party.....Wow.....Awesome.
OK, well, basic idea so far is that I had no idea what any of this stuff meant at the tender age of nine. And then I heard about Wet Dreams. The basic gist of it was: when you start to become a man, its not unusual to have wet dreams in your sleep. And of course they showed a video which consisted of an embarassed kid and soiled sheets. Now, at nine, not everything works the way you want it to, and some of you right now are remembering what the original topic of this blog was. Shortly thereafter, in the comfort of my own home and the innocence of youth, I wet the bed. IT IS NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF!
I wake up, and see a giant wet spot on my bed .....
.......
......"MOM! MOM! I'M A MAN!"
My second story occurred at a much more mature age. And by mature, I mean I am now in full mastery of terms such as masturbation, wet dreams, and Michael Jordan.
I am now at the near adult age of 19. And, as one might expect, this story involves alcohol. For sake of legalities, I will say I live in Canada. And if you discover I don't live in Canada, I will say that i wasn't drunk....I was stoned. So I have all of my bases covered.
I was in some form of intoxication on a lovely friday night at a buddy's party. After being stopped from playing darts in a crowded room ("No man, I'll just throw it over them"), I apparently disappeared for several hours. My loyal friends (who also happen to be the same people who asked the original question for this post) didn't give a shit. Eventually my friend's girlfriend, "Keri", found me at 2 AM, and made me lie down on the couch. She placed a wastebasket by my head and a glass of water on a table. Nice girl.
Now there is some dispute with this story. I wake up some hours later, with what can only be described as a damp crotch. The glass at the table was empty. Either I spilled the glass on myself, or I did the thing that made this story qualify for this blog.
Sidenote: Yeah, I pissed myself.
I can't go back to sleep like this, so I try to go dry myself off. Keep in mind, I'm still messed up. I take off my pants......I'll let that image sink in.......and proceed to the kitchen. Now, it's very dark, and I can't for the life of me find the light switch. Giving up, I open the fridge and use that light. I begin trying to sop up my pants with a roll of Bounty paper towels with no success, partly due to the fact that it was still unopened in the plastic wrap.
All of a sudden, "Keri" walks in. Try to imagine the scene. It's probably about 4 AM, I'm bathed in the pale light of the refrigerator, in my boxers, drying off wet jeans with a plastic-wrapped roll of paper towels.
No words were really necessary. She opened the paper towels, flicked on the lights, closed the fridge, and walked away muttering something about the Irish.
Now with the use of actual paper towels, I proceed with the drying. After ten minutes, I realize that it wasn't working very well. And this is when the most brilliant of brilliant ideas sprang to mind. My eyes settled on the microwave. A second later I was shoving my pants in the microwave like the Grinch shoving a Christmas tree up a chimney. I set the cooktime at popcorn, and waited.
Looking back, my pants should probably have exploded. Luckily it did not. After the bell dinged, I started taking my pants out of the microwave (what a strange sentence). Readers, you know that glass plate that spins on the bottom of a lot of microwaves? The thing that isn't actually attached to anything? Well, as I pulled the pants out, this thing came with it. It fell...and CRASHED on the counter, glass shards going everywhere! And I freeze. There isn't a sound in the whole place. Is everyone asleep?
Now here is what my mind is thinking: OK, I'll throw all the pieces out the window....And say somebody stole it! ...... BRILLIANT! .... Unfortunately my plan was ruined as "Keri" once again came around the corner ...looking very tired.
I am clutching my trousers (which were still soggy), still in my boxers, surrounded by glass shards, and I look her dead in the face and say, "I tried to cook my pants."
Good times.
Byah!
.....damn
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
A Burger in the Hand is Worth Two in the Trash
I was having a bad day to begin with.
My day started bad due to one simple mistake. A mistake that would ruin the next two weeks of my life.
I was opening my brand spanking new Honey Bunches of Oats w/ Almonds (Family Pack, I don't have a family, but now I know I can feed one). Everything was going fine until I began to open the clear bag in the box. With horror I saw a tear open down the side of the bag, nowhere near the top. Like a surgeon who just nicked an artery, I took a deep breath and tried to repair the damage. I tried to go in from the other side of the bag. But woes me! The mistake repeated itself! And now the two rips met in the middle to create an inferno of honey bunches and oats.
So now for the next two weeks, pouring cereal will be a messy .... tedious .... chore. If it wasn't for the almonds I wouldn't even bother.
But, as the day went on, I realized something much worse was in the air. It was October 1st, a relatively inconspicuous day. But as I was crossing campus, I noticed a large number of rather sickly looking people were handing out flyers and brochures. As it so happened, one of them caught my eye, and immediately rushed to give me a brochure. As I took it, she said "Happy Vegetarian Day!"
My first impulse was to laugh, which for some reason offended her, and she walked off to eat some bean curd.
Then I actually looked at the brochure. Underneath a title reading "The Vegetarian Starter Kit", there were pictures of chickens, cows, pigs, and fish......This was a terrible starting kit for a vegetarian....It would be like showing a priest a Playboy before he takes his vows.
Sidenote: I once had a girlfriend who claimed she was a vegetarian, except that she ate poultry .... she goes to U Penn now ...... and it confuses me.
There is, of course, a reason people like meat more than vegetables:
"Meat tastes better because it has a soul, and souls make things taste good."
-Blog Patron DTWO-324522 (a.k.a. Stu)
This patron, let's call him "Stu", has long been a supporter of meat. But it was to my complete chagrin, that....on this same day of October the first....I discover he has decided to turn veggie. It's one thing to do it for animal rights or whatever.....but he went the political route. I'd give you the whole lecture about methane emission, unsustainable factory farming of meat, destruction of habitat, and poor protein output...but "Stu" already put me through it and I would never do that to another human being.
Normally, I would consider these arguments retarded. It is an issue that can only be handled on a government-wide basis. But...I think I might have been proven wrong by the infallible logic of "Stu".
Quick, turn on CNN! They're probably broadcasting it now!
By not consuming meat, he is single-handedly bankrupting the entire infrastructure of factory meat production in America...nay...the world. Even as you read this, great things are happening. Cattle are roaming free. Chickens have just started migrating away from Kentucky. Pigs are setting up communist communities. Fish are... swimming... no big change there.
Despite all of this "Stu", if that is indeed your real alias, you have still severely lost credentials in my book. I guess at the next barbeque you can eat my fucked up Honey Bunches of Oats.
My day started bad due to one simple mistake. A mistake that would ruin the next two weeks of my life.
I was opening my brand spanking new Honey Bunches of Oats w/ Almonds (Family Pack, I don't have a family, but now I know I can feed one). Everything was going fine until I began to open the clear bag in the box. With horror I saw a tear open down the side of the bag, nowhere near the top. Like a surgeon who just nicked an artery, I took a deep breath and tried to repair the damage. I tried to go in from the other side of the bag. But woes me! The mistake repeated itself! And now the two rips met in the middle to create an inferno of honey bunches and oats.
So now for the next two weeks, pouring cereal will be a messy .... tedious .... chore. If it wasn't for the almonds I wouldn't even bother.
But, as the day went on, I realized something much worse was in the air. It was October 1st, a relatively inconspicuous day. But as I was crossing campus, I noticed a large number of rather sickly looking people were handing out flyers and brochures. As it so happened, one of them caught my eye, and immediately rushed to give me a brochure. As I took it, she said "Happy Vegetarian Day!"
My first impulse was to laugh, which for some reason offended her, and she walked off to eat some bean curd.
Then I actually looked at the brochure. Underneath a title reading "The Vegetarian Starter Kit", there were pictures of chickens, cows, pigs, and fish......This was a terrible starting kit for a vegetarian....It would be like showing a priest a Playboy before he takes his vows.
Sidenote: I once had a girlfriend who claimed she was a vegetarian, except that she ate poultry .... she goes to U Penn now ...... and it confuses me.
There is, of course, a reason people like meat more than vegetables:
"Meat tastes better because it has a soul, and souls make things taste good."
-Blog Patron DTWO-324522 (a.k.a. Stu)
This patron, let's call him "Stu", has long been a supporter of meat. But it was to my complete chagrin, that....on this same day of October the first....I discover he has decided to turn veggie. It's one thing to do it for animal rights or whatever.....but he went the political route. I'd give you the whole lecture about methane emission, unsustainable factory farming of meat, destruction of habitat, and poor protein output...but "Stu" already put me through it and I would never do that to another human being.
Normally, I would consider these arguments retarded. It is an issue that can only be handled on a government-wide basis. But...I think I might have been proven wrong by the infallible logic of "Stu".
Quick, turn on CNN! They're probably broadcasting it now!
By not consuming meat, he is single-handedly bankrupting the entire infrastructure of factory meat production in America...nay...the world. Even as you read this, great things are happening. Cattle are roaming free. Chickens have just started migrating away from Kentucky. Pigs are setting up communist communities. Fish are... swimming... no big change there.
Despite all of this "Stu", if that is indeed your real alias, you have still severely lost credentials in my book. I guess at the next barbeque you can eat my fucked up Honey Bunches of Oats.
You know....in parts of South America, testicles are a delicacy. I should give them a call because there's a pair up here that aren't being used.
Byah!
-Rob
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
