I Don’t Beat Animals, I Tenderize Them…

*I got a message from Marc this morning saying he was too pooped to, well, POOP, so he asked me to thrill your minds in his stead.*

Happy Mondays, shitheads! I was looking through my Yahoo! account this morning, and noticed I’d been receiving a newsletter from PETA that I hadn’t noticed before. Mind you, I’m in no way, shape or form such a sissified fuck that I would place an animal on a golden pedestal over a human being. I love animals, but it is in my inherent nature to eat flesh. At least I can safely assume this due to my experience that veggie burgers taste like pegboard and soymilk tastes like fucking chalk. And soydogs? Well, I don’t know what their taste is similar to, but it sure as hell ain’t meat.

Back before I became the beer, sex, and comedy aficionado over at Revenge World, I used to write for a then-fledgling pop-culture site. Now, prior to this assignment I’d never given one shit about the daily goings-on of Hollywood’s vivacious locals. However, you have to know your subjects well before you can successfully ridicule them. For instance, I could easily go off and say something crass like, “Paris Hilton’s vagina drips acid,” and have no lucid proof to back that statement up. But after reading enough Page 6, as well as numerous pop-culture and paparazzi sites scattered across the virtual ether, I can safely say the reason her gunch drips acid is because of lizard herpes.

Okay, what the hell was my point?

Oh yeah, the rich Hollywood faggots over at PETA. I most likely subscribed to their newsletter because they have a tendency to bitch and moan about some of the most banal shit in existence. For instance, recently a whistleblower on the set of Speed Racer told PETA that the live chimpanzee they acquired to play the role of Chim-Chim was beaten on set. Number one, PETA whined about them using a live animal on SR’s set already, so I wouldn’t put it past those motherfuckers if they lied just to garner the attention of symPATHETIC people to their cause. Secondly, it’s not a secret that the older a chimp gets, the more its primitive instincts kick in. So if you want to make sure no innocent bystanders get their arms ripped off, you might want to open a little can of whoop-monkey once the little fucker starts getting agitated every now and then. Of course, afterwards give it a cigarette or a shot of bourbon. That’s ALWAYS fun to watch. Haha, it’s doing human stuff!

So, in lieu of the sheer dumbfucktitude of you ass-sniffers over at PETA, this deuce is for you:


Wow. That’s pretty fucking pathetic. The sad part is, it took me nearly fifteen minutes to get that baby turtle-looking thing out of my ass. Thought I was going to blow a gasket. I took a pretty healthy shit this morning, but I forgot to take a picture of it. I guess I haven’t wrapped the idea of chronicling my rectal outtakes around my head.

I’ll try harder next time…

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