I accidentally ate beef yesterday.
To many of you, this means nothing. Let me clarify: I don’t eat beef because it gives me horrible, jet-propulsion equivalent diarrhea. Typically when people ask me why I don’t eat beef I tell them that it upsets my stomach. This is simply a polite way of saying that my ass becomes an uncontrollable anti-aircraft cannon of sound-barrier destroying feces.
Typically the next question is, “So are you a vegetarian?”. Of course not. Meat is delicious. Our teeth have evolved for shredding flesh as well as mashing grains. We’re omnivores. We’re supposed to eat meat. We’re supposed to eat grains. Not eating any grains is as dumb as not eating any meat. Not eating meat is like looking at a hundred-million years of evolution and going, “Oh yeah? Well, nyah nyah, I think I know better.” You don’t know better. You’re an idiot. Anyway, yeah, meat is delicious. I could think of no meal finer than a warm, soft, freshly-baked roll stuffed with bacon, sausages, and a pile of shredded steak slathered in melted cheese, deep-fried, wrapped in back-bacon, and then stuffed into a Christmas goose. That shit would be delicious.
“Ah ha! I can see you’re lying again. You just now said you would eat steak!” Yeah, of course I would eat steak, but in this case, I have to concede a point to all those uppity, holier-than-thou vegetarians and vegans out there: beef, as grown, prepared, and served in America is less hygienic than licking the underside of the toilet seat after I’ve eaten beef. I’ll let you take a second to figure that one out. Done? Great. Beef in the US is swimming with disease and crammed with hormones and antibiotics even before it ever reaches the slaughterhouse. Yes, crammed with both disease and disease-preventatives. Too much of both, in fact. That doesn’t mean that the beef isn’t delicious, it just means you shouldn’t eat it. I would love to eat beef again, but after spending a few months off of it, even just a little makes me horribly sick. I watched Supersize Me and read Fast Food Nation back to back a few years ago, and after a few months of going off beef, I’ve never been able to eat it again without the aforementioned shit-Pollocking of the nearest toilet.
Most of you, I realize, stuff your mouths with beef on a daily basis with no ill-effects, and I have no problem with what you do during your free time, but I was talking about cows, not wangs you perverts. And certainly not cow wangs.
Anyway, yeah, I don’t eat the stuff, so yesterday at the buffet when my chicken parmesan turned out to be veal parmesan I was faced with a tough decision: stop eating and haul ass to the nearest toilet, bucket, or dumpster; or use the opportunity to eat the bejesus out of some beef. Many of you will have already guessed that I chose the latter, but I still feel compelled to explain my reasoning.
I figured that my intestinal system was like a community yard sale. On most days, the yard sale was filled with the junk of the surrounding community, and the poor bastard who hosted the yard sale would have to keep all the junk in his garage until the next yard sale. And of course as the stuff sat in the garage it would slowly matriculate into the house, forever occupying some darkened corner until it was forcibly removed. But beef is like this giant catapult, and instead of the people filling the guy’s yard, they just fill the catapult, knowing that it will eventually go off and they won’t have to worry about any of their junk cluttering anyone’s garage ever again. Do you see what I’m getting at?
I went apeshit double-whammy bananas on the rest of the buffet. Fried chicken with gravy? Why the hell not? Four slices of pie? Don’t mind if I do. Taco salad? Sure, it’ll be gone in 20 minutes anyway. I was my own personal Roman orgy, minus the sex of course. And the vomiting. And the togas. And the violence. Okay, so I wasn’t really like a Roman orgy at all except that I stuffed myself silly on food I don’t normally eat because I knew that even if I consumed 5700 calories, there would only be about 400 left in my system once the beef hit my large intestine.
Almost like clockwork I felt my tailpipe about to go “Old Faithful” in the middle of the ninth hand-sized cookie I was using as a spoon for my third bowl of soft-serve ice cream. I full-on sprinted to the bathroom and made it just in time. Of course I caused quite a ruckus (geyser allegory is never used lightly), and passing half-chewed food is never fun, but I honestly only have one regret:
the buffet wasn’t serving eggnog.
He’s back in the saddle, um… er … toilet!!
“shit-Polloking” - best. term. ever.
Mmmmmmmm, beeeeeef…
I watched Fast Food Nation and it was SO disgusting at the end.
MEAT IS MURDER!!!
Tasty, Tasty murder!!!
Is it safe to say then, that you are Beef-leumic? Beef and Purge! Beef & Purge!
*sidenote* I reside in the heart of beef country, and work with meat packers. Those plants are bad for the consumers and even worse for the people who work there.
No, it’s good that they didn’t have egg nog. You want The Nog to run through your body for a while, warming every inch of your digestive, circulatory, lymph, and endocrine systems for days. Yeah, man. That’s true happiness.
All this beef talk has me Jonesing for a marinated BBQ flank steak and a baked Idaho with a little Au Jus on the side.
Just disregard the vivid mental image of the underside of the toilet seat.
Broadsheet- Back in the saddle, indeed.
Poppy- Though delicious, I’d rather not eat it.
Valerie- I haven’t seen it yet, but it’s on my list.
Matt- Delicious, nutritious murder.
Margo- No, that would assume I purge on purpose. My body purges automatically. Also, I agree, the beef industry isn’t good for anyone except those at the top making all the money.
S. Reed- Good point. I hadn’t thought about the benefits of an internal nog coating.
Gibby- I don’t need to worry about the mental image, you do. Au jus can look remarkably similar to other liquids, especially when there’s fat floating in it.
Good thing I already ate breakfast.
Wow. Just, wow.
Great. Now I want a fajita.
I totally get it and would have done the same thing.
Still, when I finally watched Supersize Me a few months ago, I was actually kinda hungry for McDonald’s by the end….
nic- Ha! When we finished I said, “Who wants McDonald’s?” Everybody groaned… and then we walked to Rocky Run.
You know, of course, that I’m going to name my firstborn “uncontrollable anti-aircraft cannon of sound-barrier destroying feces” Mob, right? Christ on his throne, I think I shot partial brain matter out my nose while reading this post. You obviously spent too much time away from the Intertube, because really, you just came on the face of everyone who read that.
Well done!
Yes, that was milk that just shot out my nose!
Eskimo flesh does the same thing to me. Must be all the blubber those guys eat.
I was one of those vegi types for some years until I was diagnosed as vitamin b12 deficient, anemic and all sorts of other nice things that I didn’t take into consideration. My Dr. said eat meat or go on supplements. My body was out of whack.
I just made a kick ass guiness beef stew that would make you regret your decision to go off beef. However, it might work with Pork…..do you eat prok?
prok….hehehe…why does that strike me as funny as your shit stories?
Umm, somehow, after reading all that was eaten, I don’t get the feeling it was the beef that caused the stomach ailment? Right?
/Me - carnivore
What is wrong with American food?
This post, if printed out onto pamphlets, would single-handedly reduce the obesity epidemic. It was fabulously, fag-ulously, disgusting.
I congratulate you, anonymouscoworker. Keep shitting!
King Mob- Wow. Coming from you, that really means a lot.
Jake- I’m glad it was milk, I was worried that it was something else.
RZV- I’ve never had Eskimo, so I wouldn’t know. Maybe if I ever visit Alaska…
Lori- It’s not a decision I regret. I like not having horrible stomach pains when I eat something. Like I said, though, I do miss the taste.
anginak- Oh, it was the beef, to be sure. Without going into too much detail, let’s just say that I know when it’s beef and when it’s something else.
Beef Lover- Um, thanks?
Almost like clockwork I felt my tailpipe about to go “Old Faithful”
oh hell yeah…i’ve been there. all too often. but i gotta tell you, “my ass becomes an uncontrollable anti-aircraft cannon of sound-barrier destroying feces” made my day. i’m so stealing that line. well, borrowing. i’ll give you credit.
xoxo