The phrase “piss-up in a brewery” springs to mind.
There was a stall in Lord Street yesterday offering Kangaroo Burgers for three quid. If I wasn’t calorie counting, I’d be tempted… if only to see the expressions on people’s faces when I told them what I’d just eaten.
Who is it that decides which animals are acceptable to eat anyway? Not long ago, a newspaper (or possibly the Daily Mail) printed pictures of cats squashed into tiny cages in the Far East, waiting to be slaughtered. I was horrified, as I’m sure most other people were.
But animal rights activists in this country have made a big deal about battery farming, yet the general public at large don’t seem to care, as long as their chicken nuggets are available at affordable prices. Because CATS ARE CUTE, and chickens aren’t.
It’s an immense double standard, and if I wasn’t so apathetic, I’d do something about it. But now you’ve read it on this blog, so it’s YOUR fault if nothing gets done! I’m going to report you to the RSPCA, or something.