so i'm off on a date. and i feel like the 6th grade version of myself. freaking out about what to say, how to say it, and all that jazz. so things are going ok - i'm pulling a conversation along - and then - whack - mack truck moment. "i don't eat meat" - huh. why? "for health reasons". hm. you're talking to a girl that raised cattle to pay for college. my family has lived on the same farm ground for nearly 100 years.

we eat meat.

and worse that brining home a convicted felon - mostly because that would be easier to hide as long as there are no gang tats with tear drops and RIP etched anywhere in plain sight - is brining home a non-meateater.

first of all - i'm a believer in the fact that i got to this point on the food chain for a reason, and intend to stay here. second - my family's entire livelihood depends on the people that pick up a pound of beef at the local meat counter (oddly a gay innuendo in there, but not intentional). and third - as a slightly "well fleshed" individual - i find it a bit of a turn off that you don't like meat - cuz hunny, i got meat on my bones.

and my biggest worry in all of this is - if we're stuck on a desert island, and you don't eat meat from poor defenseless animals - but you get freakin hungry when the coconut milk and green leaf diet runs a little rough through you - are you gonna eat me instead? Cuz, i'm not defenseless - and again, a little meaty - so now i'm freaked while on this date that the guy is secretly sizing up the size of my loineye.

and then my mind wanders to one of those cartoons where my head is on a giant steak and he is licking his chops and thinking to himself - in the catchphrase of "the soup" (love you joel mchale!)- "sooo meaty.." and i start to get clammy hands thinking to myself how i build one of those very impressive bamboo traps to keep him away from my tender thighs... and then - whack -

yea - back to reality - maybe we should just say this might not work.