Name That Meat

Things I have been learning about cat food today

- ‘Holistic’ is not a regulated word and means jack shit. Any food claiming to be 'holistic’ is trying to put one over on the consumer.

- 'Organic’ and 'Made with Organic Ingredients’ are different. Companies don’t need as much 'organic’ material to make the latter claim.

- ’[Meat] Cat Food’ is required to have significantly more of the named meat than 'Cat Food With [Meat]’

- Ingredients are listed by weight

- If the first ingredient is not a named meat, walk the fuck away

- Non-specific 'Meat’ and 'Fish’ and any by-products or meals of such are highly suspect.

- ’[Meat] by-product’ is questionable because it means any squishy part that isn’t counted as 'flesh’, aka giblets and offal. While some of those (liver, heart) are healthy and good, others are meh. Needless to say this should not be the primary (and thus first-listed) source of protein.

- ’[Meat] meal’ is actually preferable to just ’[Meat]’ in dry cat food because the weight of 'Chicken’ might include water weight, while 'Chicken meal’ is weighed without moisture and is thus a more reliable measure

- Corn and wheat are distressingly common and are completely useless for your cat. If they’re anywhere in the first five ingredients, your cat is gonna eat twice as much and most of it’s gonna end up in the litterbox.

- Re the last point, Meow Mix is utter shit. So is Friskies.

- Filler carbs are necessary to hold the pellets together but should not be one of the first two ingredients.

- Soy, beef, dairy, and fish are the most common cat allergies and can develop at any time

- There are a fuckload more reviews for dog food than cat food

- Regulation in the pet food industry is frankly apalling

Books Similar to The Secret History

Since I came across quite a lot of books that reminded me of The Secret History, whether that’d be characters, themes, concepts, conflicts, and writing style I think some of you guys would be interested in reading some of these works. 


My girlfriend likes to play a game called Name That Meat.
She sends me text messages saying “Name this meat: It’s shaped like a log and goes really well with applesauce.”
I write her back “tofurkey”
She writes me back “No. Pork tenderloin, Andrea.
This is like playing 1960’s trivia with a 3rd grader.”
I write her back
“Well then, maybe you should find another girlfriend to play your perverse games with because this one knows that it takes 50 square feet of rainforest to make a single quarter pounder and I do not eat the death of the planet for lunch and therefore do not know the edible names of the animals you munch without thought of supporting an industry that makes Nike look like Mother Theresa.
Xoxoxo I can’t wait to see you tonight.”
We got nothing in common.
Or so it would seem from the outside.

On the in breath, we’re having dinner.
She’s eating her 50 square feet of death.
I’m eating my organic, vegan, local salad. No meat, no cheese, and please hold the dressing because I don’t want to exploit the little honey bees.
But when we meet you,
She will be a thousand times more likely to greet you with open arms than me.
I’m uptight and selfish.
She’s sit down and join us. You look heartbroken. How’s your family?
And I’m choking on my lettuce about now.
Begging the cows to come home and prove me holier than now
But it’s not going to happen.
I’ve got a closet full of protest signs buried by all the times I wish I had been kinder to a friend.
I wish I listened better than I did.
I wish I walked these lines to your doorstep the night you were holding your last breath like a kite string in a lightning storm.
These things confuse me.

Gandhi was a nonviolent peace activist who treated his family terribly.
He could have collected as much salt from their tears as he did from the sea.
While the most gentle person I know is touting an M-16 in Bagdad right now.
How does heaven decide who its angels will be?
How do we?
When hearts take the shape of fists beating and smoke stacks form clouds the shape of lungs breathing
and a handful of bad seeds will form a string of prayer beads under the right conditions.
Nothing is ever as clear as it seems.

My friend’s conservative, Republican, Catholic mother woke every morning at 5 am for 4 years to pray my family would one day see that any God worth calling God would be a God that loves queers.
We all grow in two directions, one toward the skies.
Limbs holding hymns or war cries that all the world can see.
The other beneath the surface.
Roots griping a truth less obvious.
This is the pacifist clenched fists on the nights when songs turn into bombs one too many times.
This is radical feminist writing “White Only” signs between the lines of their revolution.
This is a US soldier seeking refuge in the open arms of Canada.
While Canada arms soldiers that opens fire on Afghanistan.
Some days, even the sand in the hourglass doesn’t have time.
Some days the sunshine casts shadows and bullets faint at the sight of blood.

I’m never gonna eat a hamburger, love.
You’re never gonna not say hello with a smile in your eyes like a porch light welcoming this broken world home.
And this is how we’ll grow, in every direction.
The answers are easy. It’s the questions that are hard.
What can you teach me?
What can I learn here?
Whoever you are, are you also looking for a soft place to sleep?
Are you also in search of a dark night holding the quiet light of 6 billion wishful stars?

—  Name that meat, Andrea Gibson

Scientific Name: Achillobator giganticus
Projected Natural Lifespan: 20 years
5 meters (16 feet)
250-350 kg (550-660 lbs)
Locality: Dornogovi, Mongolia (Bayan Shireh Formation), ~90 ma
Exhibit: Mongolia of the Cretaceous

In height and weight, Achillobator is the second largest dromaeosaurid. At about five meters long, Achillobator is large and chunky compared to other dromaeosaurs; its limbs are short but powerful, and its skull is deep. It’s by no means a fast animal - the upper leg is longer than the lower, the reverse of the case in running animals! This hints at a potential ambushing lifestyle, hunting with quick and powerful attacks. The pubic boot of its hips also juts out unusually deep for a dromaeosaur, and it’s quite colorful in our individuals!

At Huxley
We have four Achillobator, two males and two females. They live in a scrubby habitat, part of the Mongolia of the Cretaceous exhibit.

Notable Behavior
During the breeding season (the first one of which is just concluding), they display, as pictured above, each trying to show off the most colorful groin to the others. Both sexes display - both are seemingly choosy about colorful groins. Occasionally two will get into a scuffle, which amount to short, forceful displays of wing-battering and kicks. Most of it is mock attack - but one of the males did get rather roughed up about a week ago. Outside of the breeding season, the four get along pretty well, and live in a fairly stable group.

Keeper Notes
As we’ve mentioned, the breeding season has been in full swing. With available resources for handling offspring, we’re trying to breed the Achillobator this year. Two of them have paired up and mated (which garnered mixed reactions from guests), so we are hopeful eggs will appear soon!

Ok, I haven’t been in the fandom for long but I remember hearing of Padlock (Tony and Sketch) was the main ship for a while? But now there’s just a giant ass implosion of Digital Time (Tony and Colin) that sorta…sucked me into it?
It’s kinda sad to realize that I’m now shipping a fucking clock and computer…
But then again…I ship a refrigerator with a giant slab of steak and feel no shame in it soooo….?

comicdreamer  asked:

So does this mean that your future pics will have you in a mask now? And is your name going to be Meat or was that just a statement on what you want your identity to be like? Sorry if that last one seems stupid, but it feels like you go by 3 different names now

Hi there!

I didn’t mean my MEAT post to confuse things, though I understand! Let me see if I can explain better:

Being “Meat” is a persona and space I am currently exploring with my Master and another Dom (!). I’ve yet to get all the gear, but when I get into this space for “scenes” or photography, I will be hooded. Taking my identity away, becoming a roided piece of MEAT for display and use.

It’s a hot little area of my psyche that is fun to explore and makes my Master VERY aroused… so forgive me as it spills over to this blog. But ultimately I still go by Beast as my online pseudonym, and bull to my family.

Hope that helps!

It is that time of the year in Nebraska. Here we have a creature who is 21 inches tall and goes by the name “boots”.

I used eat meat, but now I am unable. Who could eat “boots” unless you were starving.

Pastel boyfriends (code names: Milk and Meat Bun)