Of all the content I’ve crapped on throughout the life of this brainless little blog, the thing that received the greatest backlash of butthurtedness (shut up, it’s a word) was my jab at the internet's love affair with bacon. People are apparently quite passionate about their pork products. Now don’t get me wrong, like any good American most of my hopes and dreams are wrapped in bacon. But Bacongate has brought to the forefront a bitch that needs to be pitched: fucking vegans.
I have a lot of friends that are vegans. At least I did, before posting this rant. I also have a lot of friends that eat cheese smothered steak every hour on the hour and then wash it down with a glass of baby seal’s blood, while wearing the pelts of a hundred puppies and kicking kittens in their itty bitty throats. My point is I don’t give a feathered fuck what you do or don’t eat… as long as you don’t tell me what to cram in my own face hole.
And that’s where the problem lies with veganism. Apparently a diet deficient in meat and dairy causes a person to preach pompously at anyone who picks up a pork chop. Vegans are an awful lot like uber Christians; both are always spewing their scruples in your face at every opportunity... the main difference being that vegans manage to make valid points.
I wholefartedly believe that vegans, in general, are not only physically healthier but more environmentally and socially conscious individuals than us animal-eating assholes. No one can dispute that the factory farms that us meat munching morons depend on to give us our fried flesh fix are contributing heavily to the destruction of the planet… not to mention filling our bloated bodies with toxins. Delicious, juicy, falling-off-the-bone toxins.
I do care about the Earth. I don’t give much of a shit for the people on it, but I don’t want the whole planet to implode just because we were dicks to it. And I care about my own health (a little) and that of my family. I love animals and could fill a fucking ark with all of the pets I've adopted or rescued. Most of the meat I buy comes from a small, single-family operated local farm. I do what I can to cut down on energy usage and waste. I reduce, reuse, recycle, and whatever the fuck else that starts with “R” I can to try to limit the amount of filth that infiltrates the atmosphere. But all it takes is one uppity Facebook post from a vegan and suddenly my BLT is sodomizing Mother Earth… and apparently she’s not into that.
Then there’s the outspoken celebrity support. Joaquin Phoenix, really? I’d kick him out of the Clean Colon Club if I was a vegan. It’s hard to take any movement seriously with his ridiculous ass at the helm. I’d rather take dietary advice from Jeffrey Dahmer.
|Please note: This is Phoenix, not Dahmer.|
And how come they have to refer to every dish they eat as being vegan? We get it, you don’t eat animal products. You don’t have to tell me you’re eating vegan cookies, or vegan soup. I don’t refer to my double cheeseburger as a murder sandwich. I tried to cook from a vegan recipe once, but when I didn’t even know what half of the ingredients were or where the hell I would find them I gave up and snapped into a Slim Jim.
But seriously, despite my name-calling, incessant bitching, and spewing of alliterative anger I have nothing but respect for vegans. What I can’t stand is the immense guilt I feel when I’m around them. Their ideals are admirable and unwavering. So why don’t I convert if I love them so much? One word: cheese.
You hear people say that their bodies are 70% water… well mine is 90% cheddar. I think I could give up steak, eggs, and even bacon (fuck, I’m going to be crucified by the meat-eating masses for that again). But take my cheese curds away and I’m likely to cut your face off and serve it with some fava beans and a nice chianti.
In conclusion, vegans—I love you. Keep saving the world, one broccoli floret at a time. But please, PLEASE, shut the fuck up already! It's not like your shit doesn't stink.
Wait, does it stink?