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Its better to look good than to feel good.

Murder can be sexy.

Fur is loudly screamed about by animal rights activists as being murder.

Mainly because it is.

But so is eating meat, and according to scientists – eating vegetables, and just about anything else we do to stay alive on this planet. (Studies have shown that vegetable matter emits an electrical pulse when plucked from vine or main plant, much akin to a scream. So vegetarians and vegans are filthy murderers like the rest of us.)

But here is part of the problem, fur is just so damn sexy.

Here is a test:

Doesn’t matter if you are a man or woman, just do this.

Imagine a celebrity that you find sexually attractive.

Now imagine them naked, in a seductive pose.

Its hot, right? Works for you?

Now imagine them wrapped in snow white fur.

Just got a little hotter in here, right?

That is why it will never go away entirely.

It has been on the decline for a few years, but I just read an article that shows that fur dealers are showing a huge increase in demand.

Thank god.

Perhaps the day will come that I can go to a steakhouse and be served an 18oz ribeye by a buxom waitress clad only in a floor length mink. (As far as masturbatory fantasies go, this one is a half notch above staying after class to help the playboy substitute teacher “Clap the erasers”.)

Maybe not, but it is still intriguing.

But what led us here?

Lizzy.

Lizzy is a twenty something airhead from an affluent side of the beach cities.

Her friend, who’s name is unknown at this time, comes from the same hood.

And the only reason I know Lizzy’s name?

Because her friend keeps repeating it.

The friend, let’s call her Whiny for lack of anything better, was already in the beach area Starbucks when Lizzy arrived.

Whiny has been sipping a $10 incredibly difficult coffee drink and texting like it will cure cancer since she arrived.

(I was here when she arrived. I am always here, I am not sure I ever leave.)

Lizzy came in wearing a beautiful outfit that nicely showed off her figure.

And a white mink shrug.

The fur took a beautiful girl and cranked her up into bombshell.

Whiny’s first, second, third and fourth comments:

“Lizzy?!?!” (When she saw the shrug)

“Lizzy!” (When Lizzy asked if she liked it.)

“Lizzy!!!” (When Lizzy snuggled her cheek into the fur and said it was real)

“Lizzy!” (With a condemning and envious head shake as she ran her hand along the fur.)

I have often mentioned that I have a hard time imagining a girl young enough that I might have fathered her to be sexually attractive to me. It is an intellectual thing. My mind shuts down the primal reaction.

But, Lizzy in white mink? Primal has tied up intellectual in the basement and will let him out only after the orgy is over.

That is pretty sexist, misogynistic and a few other things, but it is what it is.

One of the biggest mistakes of modern society is that we try to ignore that we are animals at the top of the food chain, and there is primal baggage that comes with that rise to power.

We are a picky bunch of Omnivores. (Look it up.)

We need to accept that existence causes an even balance of pluses and minuses.

Quit hammering one group because the deaths they cause are not as bad as, in you opinion, the deaths you cause. (Deny that one all day if you like, if you’re being honest, you are agreeing. Disagreement only means you’re dumb.)

Keep in mind, as I say this, a waitress just brought me my ham and eggs.

Not the best choice for a strict vegetarian, but what are you gonna do?

 

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Posted by on January 22, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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Because it’s Christmas.

Today is Christmas.

And the day starts early.

I was raised in a family where the family businesses were a transmission repair and a burger place.

So, you either became a mechanic or a short order cook.

And while I can do more under the hood of a car than most, I am a shit mechanic.

Short order cook it is.

And here is why this has anything to do with Christmas morning.

I cook breakfast.

For all my bitter faults and shitty bully instincts, I am the shit with a skillet.

Breakfast is one of those special meals of the day.

Everybody likes breakfast and those that don’t are suspect in my book.

Hitler, Dahmer and Manson never ate/eat breakfast, thats a fact.

And all three were either vegetarians or vegans, so draw your own conclusions.

Bacon, breakfast is all about bacon.

Its kind of the linchpin that holds it all together.

Breakfast without bacon is just eggs without a purpose.

Bacon is what you add to other foods to make them better.

I have roughly 4 pounds of bacon to cook.

It is a heady thing to have a shit load of bacon within arms reach.

Its kind of like having a real pig without having to feed and care for it, just keep it refrigerated.

There was a movement on Facebook by Paul McCartney awhile back that was called Glass Walls, or something like that.

The whole thing was hinged on the idea that the only reason people eat meat is that they do not realize that the pig had to be slaughtered in order to get the bacon.

It turns out, that not only did that not matter to people, but they may have started eating more bacon because of it.

For every Glass Walls Facebook page that you saw, 3-4 Bacon support pages popped up.

But, even with my love of Bacon, I have gone vegetarian, almost vegan.

Except for the meat, cannot give up charred animal flesh no matter what I do.

There is a joy in this world that comes to my heart in a purely vicious way when I announce that I am vegetarian to other vegetarians.

And then I proclaim my love of meat and dislike of vegetables.

You drop that line and then wait.

You can see it in their eyes, percolating.

The gears are clearly turning as they try to process the information, the concept, of the meat eating vegetarian.

But that delay is not their fault, their brain is underfed and weak.

In the end, they usually just shake their heads and wander off.

The lack of rage inducing testosterone in their system makes them non-confontational.  

So the carnivores just run rough-shod, rampaging across the land.

As God intended.

Merry Christmas.

 

 
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Posted by on December 25, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Vegans and Christmas pork.

I love saying Merry Christmas.

Not Happy Holidays.

How much more of a generic troll can you be?

“I would love to express my joy, but I wouldn’t want to mention what that joy is about.”

Despite the people that required the above statement to describe them, I have hope for the world.

Because of my Muslim neighbor.

Awesome dude, great neighbor.

No drugs, no outrageous parties, nothing to avoid talking about when we pass on the street.

And, when I came home today, he yelled over from his yard, “Merry Christmas!”

I had to investigate.

“I had thought the Muslim people didn’t celebrate Christmas?”

“We don’t, but I know you do.”

“Doesn’t it offend you?”

At this, he laughs.

“That is something guilty Christians say. How could saying Merry Christmas offend anyone?”

And I realize he is right.

I have been so twisted around by the politically correct screw heads that I lost sight of basic logic.

Its a greeting of happiness.

How unhappy and deviant is your thought process to either think it would be offensive to someone, or to find it offensive?

And this coming from someone who’s stated purpose, on a regular basis is to piss people off?

This being the end of the year, I would like to give a special shout out to anyone that I have pissed off.

Sit tight, put on your big girl panties and I will piss someone else off and you can laugh at that.

I would apologize, but I have come to realize that I really just don’t care.

 

It is the day after Christmas now, and I am in a different mood now.

Not one that cares about your feelings, but kind of that “Sitting in the after glow” type of mood.

Good Christmas.

Lots of family and food.

I come from a family of either mechanics or short order cooks.

So I cooked breakfast for everyone.

And that means pork.

Pork is God’s gift to the Irish.

Not that you find a massive amount of pigs in Ireland. (Its a long story.)

Bacon and sausage, and two flavors of sausage.

Add to that eggs, waffles, hash browns, and mimosa’s.

I am a breakfast God.

It was good.

I have long preferred spending Christmas morning with bacon grease splattered on my shirt.

Psychological byproduct of growing up in a hamburger stand.

As opposed to a Vegan restaurant.

I would died by now if the family biz was a Vegan restaurant.

Without exception, all serious Vegan’s I have ever met appear unhealthy, talk about a coming or just past illness, and for some reason, have dry skin.

Just an observation, and please save yourself the trouble and don’t email me to whine about your great Vegan lifestyle.

Keep lying to yourself.

I have embraced the carnivore within, and he is a happy toothy camper.

So, the long and the short of it is that Christmas is family, food, and remembering the fact that carnivores rock while Vegan’s are slowly killing themselves.

Merry Christmas all.

 
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Posted by on December 27, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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