OmniRAWR




I'm standing in front of a sacred shrine that is full of beauty and splendor. It is a tribute to America, The American Way, The American people, The United States Of America, and the U.S.A.

Maybe even a tribute to Canada and Mexico, since they get to touch us.

Better known as the Texas Roadhouse, it is my destination for this evening. I was promised a free meal at the slaughterhouse temple of my choosing, if I was to endure a month without consuming meat. Although the trial was difficult( As you can tell from previous journals) I was able accomplish this feat.

The main goal of why we are here is to pop my cherry back into omnivorism.

But there are sub-goals involved as well...

The first is to get “a little bit tipsy” aka “a lotta bit tipsy.”

The second is Death via Prime Rib.

When we started telling others of our little wager, people would ask me if I thought I might get sick, or have a stomach ache if I ate freakishly healthy for a month, and then all of a sudden consumed terrible terrible things in one sitting. I naturally became curious as to if their was any truth to this concern, but rather then research any possibility of harm, I decided to engage the situation with disregard, and some would say enthusiasm.

I guess I kind of feel like bull fighter, coming face to face with danger.

“What if you die?” They would ask.

“Then I die.” I would answer

Except I'm not holding a red cloth, facing a two ton animal with large pointy horns.

At least not one that is alive.....

Nevertheless, we are anticipating injury, we are anticipating nausea, we are anticipating hospitalization.

It's a very exciting time for the IMBD camp. (I'm fully aware that my camp of people is entirely out of their minds, but we are a group of geniuses, and so our actions are disregarded when inarticulate)

There is electricity in the air, and electro-magnetic-pulsar-lites or whatever the fuck it is they put in Gatorade, running threw my body. I drank a couple to be sure I was ready.

I believe I am ready.

The hostess fucks up my name when calling us for the table, which is expected and happens every time, since my name rhymes with half the English dictionary. I have an unusual vigor for the taste of blood on my mind though, and she is the gateway to my cure, so I forgive her.

I'm not really here to fuck around, so we order quickly.

I go with bacon cheese fries for an appetizer, followed by a 16oz prime rib medium rare, with loaded mash potatoes, and seasoned rice. For my beverage I get a Miller Light draft.

I don't really remember the bacon cheese fries all that much, it's a bit hazy as to what happened to them. I believe I consumed them in some sort of flurry, but I was already on my second draft, so I could have been mistaken.

When the main course arrived, everyone was staring at me like some sort of zoo exhibit, mostly because I probably looked like that kid in my sweet tooth picture. I'm used to being an exhibit though, so I did not wilt under pressure. The first bite was almost as a good as when I lost my virginity. Which was when I was 16 in a hotel room in Ohio, which I had drove 3,000 miles to the day before in a car with no brakes, which I had to sell to a junkyard and fly back home. That is a different and way more interesting story then this one, but I'm not going to discuss it further.

It was so good that I decided to write a little poem for it, which I will share with you now.

Oh sweet sweet meat
How you make sweet meat love to my meatless tummy
Is like two lovers loving lovingly
And I know not of your past, or where you come from
But you are tender to me now, and make me feel warm when you are so deep inside of me
And that is all that matters

I was a little bit woozy at first, but other then that, I did not feel any sort of sickness coming on. Looking back I'm not sure why I expected to. I have the craziest immune system ever, I only get sick about once a year, and when I do you can literally sit there and watch me go in and out of it in a span of a couple hours. I have Blood Type : Badass, and I guess it takes a bit more then a slab of meat and cheese to take me down. It was actually a bit disappointing, and had I not been drunk, I might of cared more.

Instead my roommate turned my attention to our pretty waitress, whom he declared was my perfect type.

She came over and flirted a bit and asked how everything was.

I flirted back by cleverly saying “Everything is great, thanks.”

She walked away, probably to tell her friends about me, or my immune system.

All in all, I was a vegetarian for a month, it sucked balls, I don't like sucking balls, so it was un-enjoyable. The fun came from challenging myself to do something once thought unthinkable, and actually following threw with it. I can honestly say I came away with learning a bit, and think other people should give it a whirl.

As for myself.....

I would much rather just stick to eating other living things and being an American Badass.


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It has come time again to try and reach a comment goal that is as ridiculous as the very content of my journal. Although it was very ugly, we were successful in our attempt to reach 500 comments in one day. So now I have put forth a new challenge, the massive bitch of a number 1,000. What is the reason you say? I have nothing to do today, and I'm bored, and it is as simple as that. So I urge you to engage in any and every type of conversation you possibly can with me, but not only me, other people as well.

We need an orgy of incoherent thoughts, a cesspool of stupidity, a circus of comments to one and all.

I will start this marathon by saying.

The Color Red is way better then the Color Blue....DISCUSS!

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I am also submitting this as a news article, because my journal is more important than the presidential race.

Digg it HERE

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