So God was like “I made animals
“And they’re useful and delicious
“But you chose to eat an apple
“And so, to be malicious,
“I’ll make your parents teach you
“That vegetables are good
“And also make steak cost way more
“Than such meat ever should.”
Tag Archives: Meat
Nature’s Chosen
Once in every generation
There is born a chosen one
Who eats their veggie burger
Wrapped in lettuce in lieu of a bun
Then drinks a pint of water
That they brought from their house
Because unfiltered tap water has chemicals
And plastic bottles they don’t espouse.
If you are of the lucky few
Who meet this special soul
It is your sacred duty
And your most important role
To take this person to your home
And shoot them in the head
So we can stop this “special” nonsense
And just eat our meat instead.
Filed under Poems
Patty > Bun, etc.
Pizza’s pretty yummy
And hot dogs taste real nice
But I can do without the carbs
And even sans the spice.
Instead of all that bready stuff
What I really want to eat
Is meat covered in melted cheese
Then covered in even more meat!
Filed under Poems
Just Wait ‘Til He Learns They Eat Cat In China
Jared was a little dude
From Syracuse, New York
Who used to think his favorite meat
Was barbecue pulled pork.
Then he came upon a crowd
Of masturbating cattle
And now he says Beef strokin’ off
Has won the “best meat” battle.
Filed under Poems
Dear Vegans
Many chickens passed away
So you could have a meal.
You killed them and ate their eggs;
How does that make you feel?
Many chickens were beheaded,
Plucked, and fried in fat.
Because of that, I feel full
And I’m okay with that.
Filed under Poems
How I Greet New Neighbors
Like an inexpensive cut of meat
Stewed for many a lukewarm hour
You’re welcome when sold on my street
But far less welcome in my shower.
Filed under Poems
The Wife And Mr. Chicken
No one warms my heart like you do,
For three minutes on medium heat.
Our families and neighbors judge us harshly
But I’m glad, to you, I’m just a piece of meat.
Filed under Poems
Vegan Conspiracies
They make blueberry, strawberry,
Blackberry jam,
But not jam out of chicken,
Venison, spam.
Why do we make paste
Out of fruits and such
But not dead animals?
Suspicious much?
Filed under Poems
Fine Dining
It’s Fry Day at Sir Spatu-lot,
My city’s favorite dining spot.
You buy your steak by ounce or pound
Or even by the name of the cow.
If you eat ten burgers, you don’t have to pay.
That is just the Spatu-lot way.
If you eat fifty burgers in one sitting
You get to park in the handicapped spot, which is fitting.
It’s been ten years since my last Fry Day.
I was banned for bad behavior, you might say,
For when they asked what I wanted to eat
I asked for a salad without any meat.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 