Why I’d Rather Eat a Rib-eye than Drink a Glass of Milk

May sound counter intuitive coming from a strict, “no, not even honey” vegan but I’m completely serious. Granted, I’d rather lick the soles of Britney Spear’s feet after she’s come traipsing out of a gas station bathroom than gnosh a slab of steak but if I had the choice between meat and dairy, I’d take the meat, all the way. And here’s why.

Male cattle raised for their flesh live a horrific existence, no doubt. Ripped from their mothers at birth with no chance to bond and know love, having their testicles and horns cut off with no pain killers (a method approved by the American Veterinary Medical Association yet, if you did the same thing to a dog, you’d be arrested on animal cruelty charges); living in feces filled feed lots, often times being denied veterinary care for fatal infections that the massive amounts of hormones they are fed can’t ward off. There’s no denying, cattle raised for their flesh live a life I would describe as hell on earth. Think it can’t get worse?

In order for cow mothers to make milk for their babies, they are repeatedly raped again and again by farm hands with a shoulder high latex glove and a vile of bull cum. A little after 9 months of gestation (hmmm, just like humans… but no! We have nothing in common!) and feeling their sweet little babies kick in their bellies, cow mothers push through the natural pains of child birth only to have their babies ripped from them the second they hit the ground. Cow mothers cry and bleat and beg and kick at their confine bars – they love their calves and like any mother, it kills them to have their precious little one stolen away.

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