Admit Something

[dad]

not sure what it says about me, but I've been reading through Being Vegan thread in F&D since last night.

oh boy.

[96583UP]

great way to lose weight, as long as you don't eat all the processed tryna taste like conventional foods loaded with salt and fat

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[tree_]

Thanks for sharing anyway. You definitely have made it clear you are a stand-up fella. True mensch. Good for you, man. I wouldn't have gotten past the "I'm a good person for even briefly considering it" phase.

[lennytheweedwhacker]

Do you know why the donor scoring mechanism would eliminate so many potential donors for him?

[tommy]

I'd do it, but I'm pretty sure I can't donate anything because I lived in England during the whole mad cow disease debacle.

[The Argonaut]

not sure what it says about me, but I've been reading through Being Vegan thread in F&D since last night.

oh boy.

Don't read that thread, lol

[dad]

not sure what it says about me, but I've been reading through Being Vegan thread in F&D since last night.

oh boy.

Don't read that thread, lol

it's too late.

[The Argonaut]

Do I come across as a tremendous a-hole throughout or just some of the time? Does trag?

[Ello Sailor]

I think I called you a whiny cunt for no reason. Good times.

[dad]

Do I come across as a tremendo us a-hole throughout or just some of the time? Does trag?

I feel like you handled yourself well. Everything has its detractors, and let's face it...veganism and/or WFPB lifestyles are much more common and publicized than they were six years ago. At least I think so, but it could also be like getting a new car and then seeing the same car everywhere you go.

Seemed like the early discourse was a combination of mocking and patronizing, which again...you handled it as well as anyone in your place.

[The Argonaut]

You didn't say anything nice about trag so I'm going to assume that he means he comes across as the villain of the thread

[dad]

he knows where he stands.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[wease]

Do I come across as a tremendo us a-hole throughout or just some of the time? Does trag?

I feel like you handled yourself well. Everything has its detractors, and let's face it...veganism and/or WFPB lifestyles are much more common and publicized than they were six years ago. At least I think so, but it could also be like getting a new car and then seeing the same car everywhere you go.

Seemed like the early discourse was a combination of mocking and patronizing, which again...you handled it as well as anyone in your place.

Yeah. I think I may have been a part of that. That’s what I get for listening to dev. Apologies, argo.

[dad]

this is unbelievable, for 20 minutes last night i was a bonafide hero

we'll throw you a parade.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[bodysnatcher]

this is unbelievable, for 20 minutes last night i was a bonafide hero

Betterman (liver)

[Jorge]

this is unbelievable, for 20 minutes last night i was a bonafide hero

Betterman (liver)

Hahahaha

[Jorge]

That may be the first PJ song pun I've actually laughed at out loud