meat joy
Here is something that you maybe don't know, or maybe you do: Sloth used to be an herbivore-only critter, for about 12 years. Now Sloth is an omnivore, and has something to say:
meat.
meat meat meat!
Love the meats. A new barbecue joint opened up around the corner from Log, and the ribs are soooo good. Sloth is moved to tearful ecstasy when gnawing on the little buggers, so tender and flavorish. Especially when there is a delicious beer involved.
Maybe this comes to mind right now because it is lunchtime.
Not to offend any current herbivores; it is a viable lifestyle choice, of course.
posted by sloth @ 3:24 PM
37 comments
37 Comments:
Sorry, PD. It is mean to torture in this way, but Sloth has a new bionic tooth, and it wants to be deflowered with something's flesh.
i have returned from the koreanfest inbibement ceremony of parting beiger. garlicky slabs of meaty tenders. coma approaching.
coma good. rub smelly oils into your temples and feel the flow.
hi. I would like to eat BBQ only. my name is baby. I like to consume wetness, but dry rub is okay by me. There are many options and the dressings are prefered according to geography. I must depart and kill my mother.
what you are talking about is eating the animal that is in kind with the horse. Why do you not eat the horse? Whither thou art the horsey gallop of the shuffle board? This is a Miami question only and one which must be considered with great functionality. I would love to be of assistance, but my heart is breaking into numberous pieces and I have the consequences of my sins to apprehend and fashion into an artform other than my own self pity. This is tragic.
For whenever there is a cancerous tuber in my wallop of a contextualized thought process. Did you see that story on the armour? They are going to let me decide. I am the decider on the protection meatball strengthener. This is me.
I am ready to bite. Tuber, you are next. I will bite into your fleshy parts.
Ham Hock, I will glue your heart back together with horse glue.
Baby mealy, little bug-baby. Will you eat your mother after you kill her?
I will eat her and her inards and her outers. I will crush her bones into pulverized bits of prey for the fish of the harbors of the world. I am a dancer in my heart but my legs are smallish and my depressive moments began in utero. once I came out I was full of rage without the horse and the buggy. come with me Sloth and eat the time traveler.
This heart is used up and dried from salts and tearing. There is no use. He had to die. The mother was executed in an accident of motherly means. There was no improvement so there was a split. The glue is brittle. Thanks for your intent.
That is so thoughtless ham hock. Where is your mother now? Where is the meanly baby's toilet training. There is lost causes and trouble in the flesh wrappings. There has been a flood and a crashing. There was a totaling of metalic wanderer. this is the end.
Your brain waves are not within anymore. Stop with the torture why don't you? Why are you no longer fun? Your mealy flesh wad is no longer viable. There is no taco party in your future. Sloth wants to eat your dinner for you. that is your just reward. Sloth may want to help you. I am not sure.
Sloth will help with the flesh wad. The bionic tooth is spinning in its socket. It is sharpened to a needly point. It will puncture the flesh wad and the meats will dribble out pinkly.
Oh Sloth!!
I want a bionic tooth too.
There are many teeth. One is called a molar. Put it in your tongue and if you are here you should have gotten it. it is very simple. three or four teeth going at once. PD, I will be your avenger. Your doctor is once removed from my knife time.
I have eyes in my eye teeth.
The log is buzzing. It's nice! Sloth is bristling with hearts!
the ham died and now there are surrogates. Once is on fire, but there are really two in the one. The second is much less than the first in terms, but the fragility of hindsight and foresight. Both exist inside. I am the second daughter of the first.
bye bye log friends!
Mix me up with corn and make a loaf of meat. I might need some time travel, but it is possible that there are constants inside this mush of mealness. The consistency is based on the additives.
Goodbye FB. Travel safely into the underside. the tunnel is safe tonight.
bye, Fairy B!
Corner office, are the additives altering the cell structure? Is the structure partially liquified?
partially but not complete. there is a doughy texture somewhat puffy. I am deteriorating, but only in the sense that I am always deteriorating. This is a constant in my relationship to time.
I am in the corner office because I killed the girl. She wouldn't give me a good review. It was all I could do to end up on top. The tuber was pointing a dollapy finger into my pie and I had to cut it out. The sirs watched until I became one. I am now what I hated but that is before the accident. this accident contributed to my decline and my acknowledgement of meats.
Corner office. Please stop the killing. Stop oppressing. YOu have already killed the handed one.
Corner office, you should try being more round... or at least tubular.
i am round in essence. Stop taunting me.
Corner office, how did you GET to be corner office? Were there shenanigans involved?
yes, call me beige if you like, I am a sir, but with a knowing glance into the spaceship of truth and justice. you see, I know what I am. I know where I stand in Jesus' heart and in the minds and hearts of the American people. I am using my "corporate capital" so to speak, to justify my treatment of a certain ham and a certain tuber. Some say I made the tuber what it is. no. 9-11 did that. she became a shrieking hyena at that time, never to return to her singing of jingles sweetness. Now she sits behind someone I know who is very concerned. I make this happen. The shenanigans were corporately smiled upon by those in powerful seats in congress and otherwise. Big business, whatever you say is the place of men in fraternities and those who yearned for it. But these contrivances are indicators of one thing only. I cannot share this indication. Bring it on. I am watching you on your monitor. i stole a certain meat product's hands away and turned it into a simpering idiot. that is why it had to die. Now I stand on the head of the beast. I do not share in the responsibility.
PD! Hello and hi! The meats are sexy, they are bound and waiting for the slicer. They are lounging wantonly, giving the come-hither signal.
Corner Office, your infiltrations are suspect. Your gravity is keeping the satellites at a safe distance, but there are some who are rogue and uncontrollable. The greasy trail you leave is telltale. The fingers protruding from your pockets look very familiar, by the way. You really should clean up after yourself a little more thoroughly.
I have sliced myself up a tasty snack of cured pork products.
Very cool design! Useful information. Go on!
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