Trading Wackos
2004-11-30 at 11:59 a.m.
I am ashamed to admit that I have watched the last three episodes of "Trading Spouses: Meet Your New Mommy"
*Ducks from proverbial flying objects*
I know, I know.... It's a stupid show with a stupid premise. I swear on my mother's grave I won't watch the show again.
You're right, my mom's still alive, but nonetheless - I won't be watching this icky show again and I'll tell you why. In addition to feeling so sleazy afterwards that I felt I needed a shower, the people on it make me physically ill.
The past two episodes, an enticing "two parter", starred a bizarre family from the heart of the bayou and a wacked out Vegan family from California. One of the reasons this show leaves me cold is that I can't identify or assilmilate with either group of characters. I am neither an alligator hunter from the swamp, nor a die hard in-your-face animal rights activist.
Actually, I do think animals have a place in our society...
Right next to the baked potato.
In all seriousness, if we weren't meant to eat animals, then why are they made out of meat?
This Vegan woman had me so angry, I wanted to climb through the television screen and kick her narrow ass all the back to the west coast. Don't get this wrong - if you're a true Vegan and this is your lifestyle of choice, fine. I encourage and celebrate diversity. But don't ram it down my throat. (I might puke on something made of cardboard and soy)
Don't feel as if you were put on this earth to mend the ways of the meat-eaters among us who are clearly too "stupid" to see the light on their own.
I don't know what made me more angry - the hypocrisy of Miss Vegan American openly weeping her eyes out over the thought of an animal giving its life to be my main course, then turning around and beating a domestic animal for pissing on the floor...
Or the fact that spiders and flying pissants are treated more humanely than the family with whom she'd spent the past week.
I was just as perplexed by the cajun family that needed subtitles for every word spoken. But as bizzare as they were, they at least had respect for the California woman's amusing lifestyle. I make it a point to not eat something that jumps atop lily pads or could eat me back, but if you choose to do, it's no skin off my sizable ass.
Conversely, if you choose not to eat, drink, wear or kill something that I find tasty in a worcestershire marinade, then have at it! America the beautiful - America the free!
Pass the gravy...