I am animal

Meat. Fucking lots of it. All up on my plate. Cook a cow in his own blood and hand me the proper utensils. I will grub that shit like he just ate my entire family and shat them on my lawn. I eat with savagery. I am animal.

I don't know what to think about animal rights. Animals feel pain, that is for sure. And when I think about it, from a purely secular standpoint, I could be a cow right now. Why am I a human? Beats the shit out of me. I could be a cow. Right now I could have some farmer's crusty ass hands on my dilapidated udder, tuggin on my shit like I'd squirt out tomorrows winning lottery numbers or something. Two days later he'd string my feet up to the pulley and cut my stomach open, letting my entrails spill to the floor as I went "mooooooooooooooo, fuck that hurts".

Animals feel pain man, I tell ya. Okay, chop a chicken's head off and he won't feel the pain, and then I guess its a matter of whether a goddamn chicken has a right to his own life. Not around me, but I still feel like a hipocrit sometimes. Sentience is a pretty morally relevant concept, and a chicken would be more sentient than, lets say, Terry Shiavo, post cardiac arrest of course, so I suppose I could argue that a chicken's life is fundamentally more valuable than a braindead bulemic - notwithstanding the family ties. There are chimps out there smarter than some humans, granted they'd be super retarded humans, but I wonder who's life would be worth more. Seems a bit arbitrary to say human life is always most important, "just because".

And if a chic got pregnant by a dog and had some dog-baby, would that mean the value of her baby's life is worth less than a humans? Like, a 1/4th less or some shit?

It all gets so random sometimes. Cuter animals are worth more, but what about the ugly ones? We eat them. What about fat women? What about those non-symetrical things out there that need out love too? Distinctions, distinctions, distinctions. I just said "distinctions" three times in a row.

But give me a plate full of meat and I will dig on that shit like my name was Harriet Tubman. Cept, when it comes out on the other side, it won't be facing freedom.

Just act as if we never slept with each other.

This is new and improved. Friction Friction Friction Makes the Babies is back and better than ever. In what ways, you ask? Well, now that my delightful but all too short summer respite has ended, I plan to write more often. I wouldn't wish to render my hands idle lest they become thy servants of Satan. Yes? It feels good to blog like this again, just you and me, my dear reader. Is this not pleasing? Is this not new and improved? Look at how well I write: And somewhere deep in the meadow he paused, as if paralyzed by some incisive intution that somewhere, hidden betwixt the bushes and roiling clouds of fog, there rest a bear, scratching its ballsack against the treebark.

If I hadn't mentioned before, I'm back in school, which I enjoy. My fifth grade teacher used to always say the brain is like a muscle, the more we exercise it, the better it gets. She also smoked alot and had the voice of a hag bag. But there is alot of truth to her statement, if I'm not learning I start to feel stupid and it aggravates me. I mean, how am I supposed to unify the concepts gravity and electromagnetism into one reductive theorem if i'm off getting drunk and shootin jizzbombs into napkins? Something had to change and I'm glad to be back.

Not many cute girls in my classes though. When it comes to figuring a general ratio between, ahem, dateable prospects and discardable ones, school is an depressingly accurate demographic. So much so that I realize, during my people watching rituals, that there are some real ugly, ugly people out there. I mean ugly. Ya know those babies that are so ugly, they're cute? Yeah well these babies were just ugly. Not to sound mean though, we're all ugly in our own separate ways. Just some ways more physical than others.

Mistake me not for being cruel, I for one, need a girl with a good personality. Personality can definately mask certain aesthetic flaws. For instance, make me waffles in the morning, and maybe I'll see past those buck teeth. Make me blueberry waffles, and I might just forgive the enormous bunjie jumping clit. In other words, beauty is both malleable and mutable. Sometimes I'll look at those 14th century paintings with naked chics - their saggy titties and fladooky rolls all hangin around their hips - it never ceases to amaze me how quickly what is considered beautiful can change.

You mean crimped hair back in the 80's got guys sprung? Maybe after a couple lines of coke.

But back to what I was saying, I'm back to routine. Feel free comment on my site as if summer never existed and I never abandoned you guys. We're gonna act normal, like nothing ever happened. K?

Slap all the Katrinas you know.

First of all, I am not a slacker. I've been feeling incompetant lately, like everything I try to write sucks. I feel lethargic, tired, bloated, unfresh. I need someone I know to die so I can get some inspiration, ya know?

And Katrina. What a slut, she totally fucked all of New Orleans. Did you see Kanye West on that telethon? He said George Bush doesn't care about black people. I'm sure George Bush cares about black people, but not in big groups. It's a funny little phenomena. A couple of black people in the mall is fine. When black people take over the mall, we leave. But I could totally hang in a mall in, lets say, China town or Little Italy. Why are black people so intimidating. Is black a naturally intimidating color?

Either way though I love black people and this Katrina thing has me pissed because I know for a fact that race was an issue. It's definately not the only issue, this isn't strictly a black thing, it's also a poor thing, and an "Oh my fucking God look at all that damage what the fuck are we gonna do?" thing, and a too little police out there patrolling thing. But in the end, aesthetic means so much and these people are black. It would be rather ignorant to say race had nothing to do with anything.

900 Iraqis were stampeded to death and my initial reaction was, "how the fuck do 900 people die in a stampede?!". By all means of reasoning what happened was beyond tragic, but it didn't really strike a chord. It was a reminder that aesthetics and emotion will always be inextricably tied, nothing new, as long as I am human I will make distinctions based on arbitrary grounds. If it happens over there it's not as bad as if it happened over here. And if it happens to black people its not as bad as if it happened to us. Can we escape it?