Free Range Twats

We seem to spend most of our time trying to make ourselves feel better about decapitating our bouncy, fluffy animal friends and devouring their flesh. On most food packaging, you will now find words to ease your conscience: 'Free range', 'organic', 'woodland reared'. 'This chicken had plenty of space to scratch around in and cluck. It also enjoyed windsurfing and scale model railways'.

This isn't really enough for me. Eating meat makes me feel guilty, but I know the one thing that would stop me from feeling guilty. That's if I knew that the animal I was about to eat, in its lifetime, was really, really annoying. Example:

'This chicken lived on a farm and was a right dickhead.'

That would work for me. I would even do the killing. Line up some sheep and I'll make my choice.

SHEEP 1: BAA
ME: NO
SHEEP 2: BAA
ME: NOPE
SHEEP 3: BEEEEIGE
ME: THAT ONE.
FX: Gunshot.

If an animal is loud, or has no self-awareness, or too obviously public school educated, or wears designer sunglasses on their head even though it's not sunny, or plays their music out loud on the bus, or shops at Jack Wills, or thinks those 'Compare the Meerkat' adverts are funny...fuck it. Bring me people like that and I'll go cannibal. I'll eat the lot of them. I'll play tennis with their heads. I'll make Idi Amin look like Ben Fogel in a jumper petting a duckling and getting all moist around the eyes because a badger stubbed its toe.

If Idi Amin had ever been put on trial for human rights violations, he could have stuck a 'd' in his name. Idi Admin. Then he could have said "I'm just temping here".

That's the second time I've threatened to become a genocidal dictator tonight. The first instalment came when I was talking to my flatmate about the Liberal Democrat policy of putting a tax on homes worth more than a million.

HIM:
They can't do that. It's crazy.

ME:
Why not? Rich bastards. They can afford it.

HIM:
Yeah, but there are a lot of people who live in expensive houses who aren't rich.

ME:
Then they should sell up and get out of the area. The rich must be ghettoised.

HIM:
But you can't discriminate against people who are well off.

ME:
Yes you can. Put them on trains. Send them to camps. We can seize their assets and dole out the loot amongst us...hey, I've become a Nazi. (Stands and salutes) Zeik heil.

NOTE: My flatmate is black. Ordinarily, I wouldn't salute most people in a Nazi style, particularly not those of an ethnic minority. Fortunately he's Ethiopian, and they have no specific beef with the Fuhrer. In fact, according to Prof. Dr. Muhammad Shamsaddin Megalommatis, Ethiopia has a racist education system. I don't know if this is true or not, but I'm not sure if I trust someone whose surname sounds like 'megalomaniac' and who uses two academic titles. It's ridiculous. You don't get it anywhere else do you? In the army you don't get Lieutenant-General or Sergeant-Major do you? Of course not! The British Army wouldn't have been able to defeat the Nazi war machine single-handedly otherwise. No one would know whose in charge. There'd be too much arguing.

"I'm a sergeant major. That's highest."
"But I'm a lieutenant general."
"Yeah, but a major is higher than a sergeant."
"Yeah, but I'm a type of general."
"You're a type of nob."

I got Hitler in the spareroom, I got Stalin on me sofa bed...

My parents have spent a good deal of their adult lives looking after lodgers and foreign students, so that they now generally remember a student by whether they hung the towels properly or if they had too much milk on their cereal at breakfast. In some ways they've rewritten Dr Martin Luther King. Whereas he believed in judging people based, "not on the colour of their skin, but by the content of their character", my folks couldn’t care less for colour or character, as long as they spend less than 10 minutes in the shower and remember to give the bathtub a going over with the shower nozzle, then you’re all right by their standards and are more than welcome to rent a room and indulge in a spot of light genocide. As far as the delineation of what is good and evil by moral standards goes, my house is a brave new world of gas-bill related divine wrath.

What they fail to realise is that whilst someone like Jesus would probably end up cluttering up the bathroom with different brands of conditioner, clogging up the sink with prostitute hair and leaving miraculous but unsightly wine stains around the bath tub, this doesn’t make him a worse individual than say, Mussolini, who would probably be a slightly more considerate lodger – only needing a dab of polish for the jackboots and a shammy to give the bald spot a good buffing of a Tuesday.

But logical protests fall on deaf ears. For, in their mind, hot water consumption is intrinsically linked to moral fibre. If you start the day with a 5-10 minute shower, you’ll go off and lead a productive, wholesome and fulfilling day.

If you’re there for between 10-12 minutes, watch out ethnic Kurds!