At any rate, I do generally get along with them by relaxing, drinking, playing music and avoiding politics. But eventually you run into hippies that take themselves so seriously that it would be a criminal waste of an opportunity to not fuck with them. Among the most serious (and thus must fuckable-with) are the vegetarians.
I admit that I’m being a bit unfair by grouping the vegetarians as a subspecies of hippies. After all, I’m completely ignoring the “I’m-a-stuck-up-rich-cunt-with-too-much-time-who wants-to-be-difficult” breed of vegetable-eater. But I definitely don’t wind up hanging out with too many of those types of people. Socialites might say that this is proof that I don’t attend the right parties. I say that it’s proof that I’m doing everything in power to avoid going on a killing rampage.
Generally, I have no problem with vegetarians. I can get along with about 75% of them. But for some reason, as with every other weird cult, religion, and political group, about a quarter of them feel like it’s their responsibility to make my business their shit. You want to survive the rest of your life on tofu and bean sprouts? Go nuts. But leave me and my 87 ounce prime-rib the fuck alone.
It seems like inevitably, I’ll be at a party when someone will come up to the grill master and demand, “You have veggie-burgers, right? And you’re cooking them on a separate grill, right? Because I won’t eat a veggie-burger if it’s cooked on the same grill as beef.”
Let me explain something: if you’ve made the choice to be vegetarian, you instantly lose the right to make any demands at a bar-b-queue. Because vegetables don’t need to be grilled. As far as I’m concerned, if you start making demands at my party, I’m tossing you the frozen cow-turds and saying, “You don’t want to use the one grill? Hope you like your patties rare.”
This is a group of people who thinks that they’re running the grill scene, when in reality they should be thrilled that the rest of us aren’t tossing them lettuce and telling them to get the fuck out. If you ever go to a party hosted by meat eaters, you’ll find that most of the time, they take into consideration their turnip-munching associates. However, vegetarian cook-outs NEVER have meat. Ever. If you even ask, you’re subjected to an hour long speech about the cruelty of slaughterhouses.
I don’t even bat an eye at the speech anymore. “You’re saying that they’re inhumanely butchered while watching their mothers die? Coooooooooooooool. Now, you’ve cooked the meat on a separate grill, right? Because if my burger touched anything vegetarian, I won’t eat it.”
Personally, I don’t think we have enough cruelly raised and brutally slaughtered animals. It’s high time we started bringing back some of the meats that have for too long been deemed “unavailable.”
I have a friend who wants to retire and open a new ranch for specialty meat. I imagine that he’d have to buy a bunch of land up in Canada, and invest in some serious electric fences. The animal? Grizzly.
I can see it now, herds of bears being driven across the tundra on the way to be branded. I keep telling him, that
- He’s going to have to find some TOUGH mother-fucking cowboys.
- Bears don’t herd. In fact, I think they’re pretty territorial.
- The only occupation that’s manned by people tougher than bear cowboys, are bear rustlers.
None of these facts have dampened his enthusiasm. On the plus side, I imagine that aside from the occasional brutal mauling, his ranch would be virtually crime-free. I mean, who’s going to fuck with a guy who raises bears for a living? All I have to say is that if I were a Canadian citizen living next to a large tract of free land, I’d be VERY nervous.
Ironically, I had this discussion with my friend over a meal at a Brazilian Steakhouse. For those of you unfamiliar with this particular brand of self-degradation, allow me to explain some of the finer points. Essentially, you walk in and are seated by a cashier with an amazing ass. This is true whether they have male or female counter person working that day. They sit you down at a table that has a large, thick, wooden stick. One end is green and the other is red. As long as the green end of your stick is up, they bring you food. When you lapse into beef-induced coma or turn the red end up, they bring you the bill. As long as your stick is green cooks come to your table, one after another, bearing huge platters of meat: lamb, pork, turkey, duck, chicken, beef, rabbit, hippo, and sloth. It’s like a group of Brazilian cooks founded the place after misinterpreting a passage from the Bible. It’s the only place I’ve ever known where you can literally sit down and say, “Bring me two of every animal.”
I went there with one of my friends and when the check finally arrived, the waiter asked, “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Yeah.” My friend responded. “How about a gurney?”
Now that’s my kind of restaurant. Remind me to start demanding that my vegetarian friends meet me there for dinner.
2 comments:
Grizzly Steak is the best and I mean best Steak ever....
I have only ever had it once...
It wasn't white meat that is for sure!!
Hmmm...big meat stick you say? That DOES sound interesting...
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