I love meat. Hunks of barely charred animal flesh, drowning in luxurious lagoons of their own velvety vital fluids. I am reduced to a slavering animal by my "meat moods." I can't get enough flesh...it's perverted, like I'm some sort of sex fiend. The thought of sinking my teeth into a dripping, squirting morsel of recently alive muscle tissue is enough to make me growl like a lioness over a freshly disembowelled gazelle. My mouth is filling with saliva as I write.
I am going out for steak with The Best Friend tonight. With him, I have no shame. He knows that this is what I have to do.
Vestigal, schmestigal - our teeth are pointy for a reason.
Rrrrrrrrrowrrrrr.
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2 comments:
We are after all barbaric. It's what the girl or guy who discovered fire would've wanted. Carry on!
Shout out to all the carnivores in NYC.
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