We’ve all been through that awkward dinner. The setting is nice, the company is jovial, and the food is divine. At one point, someone drops the line, “I love meat.” Suddenly, all heads turn toward the vegan across the table in nervous anticipation of the dreaded retort. It’s like someone openly said, “Abortion is great.” This animosity between meat lover and vegan ends the gaiety of the dinner and, needless to say, the fun is over.
The once-subtle debate between carnivore and herbivore bipeds has become crystal clear. This new school of vegetarians and meat lovers are at each other’s throats, ready to unleash claws and clever quips to draw the first blood.
Me? I’m a carnivore through and through. I’d eat bacon day in and day out (although I’d probably kill myself if I’m still eating bacon by the third day #LOL). I’ve been a carnivore for 8(?) years now, with nary a regret. I’ve played a deaf ear to a gazillion promises, debates, and arguments about the benefits of going vegan. Heck, plenty of my friends consume grass by the bucket and they’ve yet to convert me. I’m tough and salty as fried pigskin #yum 😀
Yes yes, I’m fully aware about the many vitamins and minerals in each sprout and stalk of spinach, lettuce, and other greens. But, I’ve yet to find the juicy tangy delight of bacon in the little tree things they call broccoli. I’ve to find the spice and aroma of thick steak in the little leaves they slap on a burger. Give me something with roots that tastes like bacon and maybe I’ll jump wagon.
For now, I’ll stick with the tribe of carnivores.