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a vegetarian Christmas story...

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  • a vegetarian Christmas story...


    A Vegetarian Christmas Story
    ============================

    Why I'm a Vegetarian, by A. Whitney Brown
    I'm a vegetarian, alright, but not because I love animals; it's more
    because I hate plants. I like to eat them whenever I can. But I reserve
    a special contempt for house plants, the Uncle Toms of the vegetable
    Kingdom, with their incessant drooping and whining for water. What do
    they think, I'm made of water?
    Like any omnivorous primate, I still have those primitive hunting
    instincts, but I don't go out deer hunting anymore like I did growing up
    in Michigan. It frightens people here in New York City. What I do
    instead is go out and cut down my own Christmas tree. I got a 78
    pointer last year. Stalked him for hours and finally surprised him in a
    clearing. He was just standing there...growing. Throwing out oxygen
    like he owned the planet and all the air around it. Oh, he was a
    clever little fir. I'm sure he thought he'd be safe there in front of
    the courthouse. But I hacked him to the ground and strapped him to the
    hood of my car.
    When I got him home, I discovered that he was still alive! I know the
    sportsmanlike thing to do would have been to put him out of his misery,
    but - 'twas the season to be jolly...so I thought I'd have a little fun
    with him first. I put him in water -to make sure he didn't die too
    quickly. Wouldn't want that, would we? Then I drilled thumbscrews into
    his little trunk...just to help him stand up straight, you
    understand... Put him right in the living room where the entire family
    could enjoy his agony - and then I dressed him up like an idiot.
    Strings of cheap tinsel and stupid looking balls all over his branches -
    total humiliation. Just to be fair, I even left the door open - said to
    him "Go ahead, make a break for it! You're going to blend right in out
    there in the bush with that junk hanging off you." And, the whole
    family piled presents at his feet. Just for a tease, I told him they
    were his...
    And while the rest of us celebrated the birthday of the Prince of Peace,
    he withered and died in my living room, leaving behind as one final gift
    to the lumbering race, the sweet scent of his corpse, in the air he had
    helped to create. Later, I ditched him in my neighbor's yard.

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