Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Necrovores Can't Take A Joke

Just keep believing animal fat isn't related to diabetes and you'll be fine... except you won't have toes.

Dear Necrovores,

You are annoying and your sense of humor sucks.  As vegans, we can hardly blame you for your constant general lack of good cheer, tendency towards the negative, and fervid, evangelistic desire to recruit others into your misery club.  

Unlike you, we vegans eat plants, so we are not dealing with:

A. Chronic cycles of approximately 4 -  20 days worth of constipation broken only by either hour-length sessions of violent, hemorrhoid-inducing straining or crampy diarrhea


B. A constant state of paranoid defensiveness arising from a long-buried sense of morality where you realize you wouldn’t want to be treated like the animals you eat and exploit

If vegans had to deal with being full of shit (literally), I suppose we would be humorless, insufferable boobs too.

But for now, you necrovores have got the patent on that. My Jokes Are Funnier Than Yours Since your idea of a joke usually involves the suffering of an innocent being you think the world owes you to eat or use, I’m here to inform you my jokes are funnier than yours.

That one about bacon?   Your kid’s fried ass cheek tastes about the same, according to the good cannibals of the world.  If God didn’t mean for someone to eat your children, why did He make them out of meat?  Hilarity ensues when you can’t tell the difference between a pig’s belly and your kid’s in a taste test.  Could you tell the difference?  Let’s make it happen.  I’m happy to wait until you reproduce.  I’m very patient.
I want my baby back baby back baby back.... BARBECUE SAUCE!

That one about vegans being weak and sickly?   Nice try.

That one about plants having feelings?   That’s a self-defeating joke, as you eat cheese and the flesh of cows who feed on tons of GMO corn and soy.  Yeah, I hate to break it to you, all those visions of animals eating magic stones and rainbows that populate your tortured, superstitious, childish mind don’t reflect what happens in real life.  The Earth’s last rainforests are cut down for your addiction, so dumbass, please don’t make a fool of yourself telling us about your vegetable rights activism. Let's See... Looks like you've covered logical fallacies, especially ad hominem attacks, threats of rape, and racist slurs when trying to be "funny". Here's a clue: none of that shit is funny and you actually deserve severe and unforeseen comeuppance for it. Here's to retribution being delivered to you in a timely, but ultimately surprising fashion.  
Nothing to see here!  No need to worry!

Your Future, Not Mine :-)
My jokes, however, aren’t just funny in the short run.  It’s the long game at which my jokes excel.  
For every animal you eat, I’m going to do an extra lap around your future nursing home.  The Death of A Thousand Cuts awaits you and yours, my friend, caused by your current “free choice” to stuff little bits and pieces of cadavers and titty/vag squirts down your greedy gullet because you harbor a mental delusion that your body needs someone to die in order for you to live.  The last laugh will be on my face when I pedal my new bike around your Hellpit of Eternal Stench.

I’ll wave to you from outside while you slowly die in the care of underpaid nurse aides who routinely fail to change your soggy, rancid diapers.  Health is wealth, and by that standard, you are going to be very, very poor no matter what your portfolio looks like.  I don’t think you’ll enjoy your stay in the land of shunts and MRSA, though it will be a fitting culmination for certain.  Please have them try and crack one of the windows on that airless, reeking place, so I can hear the soft murmurs of you and your necrovore pals begging for death.  So much for you telling me to kill myself -- you’ll wish for me to come and kill you someday, but I am certain to have better things to do than relieve you of your suffering.  

I suppose anything, including death, is preferable to watching ancient syndicated re-runs of Two and a Half-Men while awaiting the next amputation/catheter insertion as your roommate babbles about how his four kids never visit.  What a lonely, scary, helpless future.  The animal’s lives now and your life in exchange later.  No wonder your sense of humor is so impaired.  Look what you’ve got coming!

You don’t think such a fate could happen to you?  That your speshul snowflake body needs flesh, titty milk, and hen abortions to stay healthy?  

Maybe you're getting somewhere, because that’s funny.

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