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Please Stop Appropriating Meat

Please Stop Appropriating Meat

My brother and I haven’t always seen eye to eye. He might be reading this article right now. He lives in Colorado, figuring his life out just like everyone else. When we were talking the other day, he was telling me about his buffalo chicken dip. I love that shit, but I know that he’s adopted the lifestyle of a vegetarian. I’m sure the dip is great, but my mind blanked and I couldn’t concentrate on a recipe that doesn’t include meat.

Everybody has a different journey in life. Some people like to travel the world, others work in sweatshops because they have to. I do my best to be an informed consumer. I’ve seen the PETA videos that show unspeakable animal abuse. Do I feel terrible about it? Absofuckinglutely. Do I feel awful for the slave labor sweatshops? Yes, sir. What I also hate is when people pontificate about the “horrors of eating meat” while wearing leather Birkenstocks and sweatshop-made clothing and typing on their IPhone.

I get it, you care. I care too. There are certain things in life that just are. Every day, I think about “is this the hill I want to die on?” We don’t have to like them, but it is a fact of life. Unless you’re homesteading and creating everything from scratch, I don’t want to hear about your tofurkey burger that tastes the same as beef, because it doesn’t. Actually, I’m more angry that you make up terms like tofurkey, facon, meatless meatballs and the like. These are our words and you are culturally appropriating my people.

I’ve run a tailgate for about seven years now; just a guy and his grill. My policy is: bring your family and friends, the more the merrier. One game, my friend Mallory brought her vegan friend. Until that point, I had been cooking venison burgers on my grill. The girl was kind of smarmy and gave me attitude about not having vegetarian options before she pulled out her own burger. If people bring their black bean *shudder* “burger,” I’ll cook it. But I cooked that thing right on top of the venison beef burger grease due to her baditude. She said it was the best burger she’s ever had. I kind of felt bad about it until I found out later she had been cheating on her boyfriend with Mallory’s engaged mutual friend for a few years. Moral of the story? I am not a good person, but it worked out.

What gets me is the meat is murder thing. Everything dies, baby, that’s a fact. You, me, Babe, Bevo, Foghorn Leghorn, we all gotta go sometime. Does that mean they should be tortured? Fuck no. But someone or something is going to eat all our favorite farm delicacies, and I, for one, would rather get that ribeye before the worms and maggots. I don’t see cows manning an F-16 anytime soon; they can’t even walk down stairs. I understand pigs are as smart as 3-year-olds. You know who sucks? Three-year-olds. They still shit themselves and cost a lot. Sounds like a pig or a cow if it were left to its own devices. I don’t see any 3-year-olds filing my taxes.

I’m not here to start a fight. When lab grown meat hits the market, I’ll be the first one in line. I am a huge animal lover. It is not a binary issue; one can love animals but also enjoy eating them. Every dog and cat I’ve ever had has been adopted (five cats and four dogs). I’ve chased down dogs that have gotten away from their owners and helped find homes for animals in shelters during the 11th hour. My own dog is a therapy dog. But I live in the real world. Without meat consumption, humans would never have been able to be as smart as we are. That means no cars, airplanes, or the Apple you’re writing angry comments to me while twiddling your Snidely Whiplash mustache.

I’ve had friends that dated vegans give me a hard time about my meat consumption (you know who you are). Being pussy whipped, they’d always have to make accommodations for these women.

“Tofurkey is just like meat, man, it’s not that bad.”

“Try this bacon, it’s made from soy and tofu, you’ll like it. You won’t even notice the difference.” HAVE YOU EVER HAD REAL BACON IT IS NOT THE SAME. They can keep their textured vegetable protein and I’ll eat my MEATballs. Come up with your own words.

We both knew you were lying, but when your dick and balls are under lock and key, I guess rising up and revolting to self-administered loathing is difficult. When she, the Demon Wench, would show up to my tailgates (inclusion remember?), she’d berate me but also use my grill to cook her vegan bullshit. She’d use my pans, leave them in my car, never clean up and leave the disgusting tofu abomination in my fridge until it smelled like rancid rat dick. When they broke up, I felt the feeling that parents must feel when their first child is born combined with their first soccer goal and graduating college.

It’s not my fault meat is so delicious. Maybe they should evolve to not taste so good. Vegans have every right to criticize me for “being part of the problem and not the solution” and send me all the terrible videos of animal cruelty. All I ask is that you be considerate of my culture and get your own words. Vegans can also fuck off and take solace knowing that you’ll live three more years. I’m sure your 90s will be great as you shit yourself while losing your mind and burdening your family. If heart disease takes me down early, so be it. I enjoyed every second of my bacon cheddar burger topped with pulled pork.

Image via Shutterstock

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Madoff

I specialize in damage control, being the drunkest at any and all functions and social assassination. Always appreciate a strong gif game. Follow me on Twitter. Sometimes I put up cool stuff about golfing at the local dirt tracks.

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