Tonight at the sketch show (yes, I'm in a sketch show and I memorized ALL MY LINES!!!) there was a guy in the audience that had "EATING MEAT MAKES YOU AN EVIL JACKASS" or something along those lines tattooed on his arm. This reminded me of those Smiffies who got themselves inked up with labrys (the double-sided ax of lesbosity) or entwined female symbol tats b.i.t.d. What a commitment! That was basically saying to the world, "I know at the age of nineteen or whatever, that I am such a hardcore dyke and that I'm going to be one for life and I am so confident that I will never ever meet a man that I might want to fuck or have a relationship with, so I got this tattoo and now I'm committed!" There was a dykier-than-thou woman with a giant lesbish tattoo on her arm who was in my class who, in my four years as class notes columnist, has submitted for all alumnae to see, news of her CHURCH WEDDING to a MAN, her TAKING OF HIS LAST NAME, and the births of her TWO BABIES. One must wonder if she got a hell of a lot of laser tattoo removal or if her husband gets a kinky thrill being married to an ex-BDOC from the rug-munchiest college in the US.
Anyway, I saw this dude's anti-meat tattoo and was like, "Whoa. Dude's either got a pair made of lead to get a tattoo that would certainly get his scrawny ass pounded into sirloin should he run across the wrong cattle rancher with a history of violence-by-tire-iron. Or he's the absolute worst of the self-righteous identity politics assholes who gets a big surge of power having a negative, judgmental statement seared into his arm." I mean, I'm glad the guy likes comedy, but that tattoo is definitely going to keep him out of a lot of careers, especially the grocery and foodservice industries. Have you thought about that, guy?
I made private plans to honor this dude's message by coming home and pan-frying one or two of those thick juicy pork chops Bob insisted we buy at Costco last night. I am usually opposed to purchasing meat at Costco because it is only available in large quantities. As down as I am with meat, I still only eat it maybe two or three times a week, and in small quantities. The rest of the time, I am playing double agent with the soy proteins and the legumes. I know it's hypocritical, but I don't care. I'm an omnivore, damnit. Bob made cow (!) eyes at me and I relented and so we came home with eight or ten pork chops, most of which are probably going to go the way of our wedding cake top, but I do what I can to make my man happy. And that, my friends, is consuming meat.
As I was exiting the theater after the show, what should I spy but an audience member about to tear into a big bag of beef jerky! It was like a sign from G-d. Meat is neat, G-d was saying, and that good sketch comedy should be rewarded with an opportunity to gnaw on some dehydrated animal tissue in spitting distance of Mr. Hate Message. I asked the nice carnivore if I could have some of his b.j. and he obliged. Because I'm not an asshole, I didn't go up to the dude's face and start shoveling the jerky into my mouth trying to pick a fight. But as I was chewing hard on the jerky, the tattooed guy came up to me and put his hand on my shoulder and said "great show!" I had meat in my mouth at the time.
NOTE TO MR. NATURAL: Baby, you know my meat-eating is natural in it's own kinky way. Bob likes it when I eat meat, and damnit, I really like ground beef tacos. You know I love you, though, in all your soyrific beauty. Kisses!
How many nights you performing? Did I miss the only show? If so, I am an idiot.
Posted by: jules at August 18, 2007 07:55 AM