Thursday, December 20, 2012

Laying Down Some Yule Log

 

Yeah I realize that shit started weeks ago, shut up. For some reason the Bible-thumpers seem to be bugging my bowels even more than usual this year. I don’t know who smoked a bunch of frankincense and dreamed up the imaginary “War on Christmas,” but this heated, yet one-sided argument (I've yet to see someone get all militant against the use of the C-word. Well, THIS particular C-word, anyway) but here’s my take on the annual December debate: Happy Holidays vs Merry Christmas.


First of all, those of us that acknowledge the little ball we cruise around the sun on is over 6000 years old are also aware that this holiday was celebrated long before baby Jesus ever pooped in a camel-pelt Pamper. But don’t try telling that to the Nazareth Nazis. And don’t worry; it’s safe to call them that as they obviously hate Jewish people.


But regardless of your religious beliefs or lack thereof, isn't it nice to hear people say “Happy Holidays!” or “Merry Christmas!” as opposed to the “Fuck you, Shitface!” that you’re accustomed to the other 11 months of the year? I mean, pretty much all versions of the December holidays boil down to spreading joy, goodwill to all, and clogging the crapper at your grandparents’ house after you shovel massive amounts of your weird uncle’s Festivus chili into your facehole.

For once I’m going to get to my point quickly: I’m not a Christian. I say “Merry Christmas.” But mainly so no uppity asswad jumps down my throat about the whole keeping-whoever in- whatever thing. That shit’s annoying.

So I’ll wrap this up (a non-poop related pun!), as I still have 4000 cookies to bake and 800 presents to shove in a bag with a piece of wadded up tissue paper… after all, ‘Tis the Season! That is, the season to be a frazzled, familied-out fucktard for weeks on end. All I really wanted to get out here was that regardless of what or if you celebrate, you should definitely buy the brand spanking new short story collection Crappy Shorts: Deuces Wild. It was released this week and features a fecally fabulous short story by yours pooply—the master of shitty segues.

The editor of the collection refers to me as a “prolific if not infamous blogger,” which proves two things: #1) He doesn’t follow this blog, and #2) Hahaha I said number two. My contribution is pretty much Turd Mountain: The Fiction Edition. But fear not, there are also seven other stories written by REAL writers, so you’ll get your $1.99 worth somehow. But probably not to prop up your lopsided table, because it’s an e-book. Unless you want to use your laptop, smartphone, or Kindle for that, but then it doesn’t seem like such a good value. But, I digress.

Anyway, there’s my sales pitch. And with five shopping days left ‘til you-know-what, there’s only one thing left to say: Fuck you, shitfaces.


Merry Christmas. And shit.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Confessions of a Meat Eater.


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?