I don't Trust Any Man who Doesn't Eat Meat

There are only a few simple pleasures in this life that can divert us from the drudgery of our mundane existences on earth. One is women, one is sports, and the other is a nice, juicy steak. Yes, there's nothing that makes you feel more like a man than a slab of red meat and an aged scotch (if you're snooty like some of us at PTU). With the news that many of New York's finest steak houses are now charging the formerly taboo price of 50 bucks for a steak, as well as the ever present studies linking early death to red meat feeling manly is becoming ever more expensive and risky. But if you're one of those guys who doesn't eat red meat, you don't care. You're also barely a man.

Now I'm not saying that all men who refrain from digesting animals are less than a man. If you do so for dietary reasons, like you have already had a triple bypass surgery and now must eat boiled potatoes or your heart will explode, by all means say no to a ribeye at Lugers. But if you're a vegetarian or vegan for any other reason, such as you don't eat anything with a face or you find the treatment of animals appalling, go kill yourself. Lost one time PTU correspondent Blackie once wrote a pretty boring piece about how much he hated vegans, but even if he no longer exists to us, he had a point. Those preachy bastards place right below people who work at Cross fit and republican women as the most annoying beings in the universe. I love to eat things with faces. Everything I eat has a face. Even when I eat vegetables I draw faces on them, before I devour them. If you feel that badly for a cow, you should just stop living your life as a man. Have a steak, you twat.