NormVegetaVegans. Their Rooster Breath.
Vegetarian and Vegan girls? Fair suck of the sav, you pared-down, pallid and squalid versions of pushbike-less, suit-wearing, Mormon door-knockers. Stop trying to convert us real meat-eating, bum-scratching, Ocker, beer-swilling, and beer-gutted, BBQ men to your way of anxiety-disorder, sanctimonious dieting, and lack of thinking by-the-ways. Hit the highway. I never hear of you knocking back a sausage in the privacy of your own homes, or behind the Barby. Yeah, I’ve seen you! Having a bony-faced jawful. Don’t you worry about that. I wasn’t born yesterday nor the day before (according to my adoption papers) You aliens! I’ve felt your concentration-camp, chaffed lips, pallid tongues, and hairy tonsils, too. So what’s with all the fuss at a restaurant or café at night? Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Still waiting but not doing my job? A waiter’s job is to take your order. Not WAIT twenty minutes for you to put on a second-rate, B-Grade show and melo-Drama Queen performance for tics. Restaurants and cafes have paid entertainment, or a juke box, or piped FM for that. Why do you feel this obsessive compulsion to tell everyone the whole history of how you became a VegetaVegan, (and repeat the same story every time you (hardly) eat out, rather than tell the ‘full’ story of how you eat out of a man’s jocks or underpants to get your meat-fill when no-one’s watching?). And how you rang management to tell them you needed special attention, because you always do? Because you’re so damn special and important? NOT! (Special treatment, but no straight-jacket?). And how the seat you’re sitting on is made of leather, and you’d prefer a plastic one so your brain (which is firmly implanted in your recently-irrigated colon?) doesn’t get contaminated by bull-skin, while you contaminate the air we breathe with your bullshit?. And how you’re also anti the skinning of animals? And how you only wear plastic Jesus sandals nowadays, even though Jesus ate a fish after his Resurrection on the metaphorical eternal shore? Do you avoid the Communion wafers and wine also, on the same discriminatory grounds?. And how you only wear plastic raincoats as dresses, just in case a cow or donkey or ox happened to brush one of the cotton plants with its hide before the cotton was turned into a shirt? (but hasn’t got your hide to act so introspectively? So ignorantly? So ‘life is all about me-ish? ‘When I was three I thought the whole world revolved around me? I was wrong?’ Non Party-Girl? U2? Not Me 2. Not once. Not Ever. Meat all the way here. And them neither. So dumb-assedly? So semi-minus-epsilon-ox-y-mornishly? ‘Fearful New World’ full of recycled savages?). And how you won’t wear any animal products on your skin, like wool? Because it touched a sheep before the sheep became a hundred gristly loin chops, two non-fatty roast legs and scaggy soup bones? And then the amazing details of your big adventure chained to a dolphin at the local zoo to prevent it being fed fish? And how you go to battery-hen, chicken farms on weekends, and take their batteries out so they can’t produce eggs? And how you suck cows teets off at night-time in dairy farms so the milk can’t be made into blue-vein cheese? Yes, Cock Breath? May I take your order? Vegans and Vegetarians? Equally Weird. Equally annoying. Equally frustrating to WAIT for or upon. Me? Opposite.
Love it.
David ...
Mal
Malnutrition. It's a modern disease.
U-Turn & Re-Turn.
Mal.