Tofu

Here I sit once again at the end of the day nursing my poor wounded arm (Too much disc golf). I really need to come up with some better grips and stances for driving the disc, but that's not what this blog entry is going to be about. Oh no. Not in the least. Today I would like to talk about tofu

I fucking hate you, Tofu. The way you sit there giggling in your congealed snot-like way. I hate you because you are not meat. Never have been, never will be. Soy, when used in the proper way, can be a wonderful addition to food, but should never be used as food itself. It is vile in it's bean curd form. In fact I would be hard-pressed to envision the demonic creature from whose unholy orifice this evil substance was shat. And while we're on the subject, Fuck you, soy milk. You are not a worthy substitute for what I like to put on my cereal when I'm awake at one in the morning in my weed induced stupor watching whatever lame sci-fi I happen to come across. Milk does not come from a bean. No one will never squeeze milk from a bean and no one should ever try.  I'll just stop there before I start plagiarizing Lewis Black.

Now, I'm not condemning those who chose to go the vegetarian route. It's all about personal choice right? But for fucks sake, I need my meat. I need to hear it sizzling, I need to see it dripping, maybe even moving a bit as it slides down past the taste buds on it's way to Funky Town. Yes I did mean moving and not mooing. What I don't need to see is tofu pretending to be meat. I also don't need anyone judging me for eating it. That all being said, My band, Someone's Mom is going to be playing at this hip vegetarian restaurant on October 15. One thing I am really glad about is a great beer menu and some menu items have chicken. I only hope it's not Toficken.

See you @ 4:20

Spencer