Meatus is murder

Last Saturday saw a trip to Ginger Towers with the express purpose of achieving three things.

1 ) Wishing the Ginger Ninja a happy birthday.
2) Consumption of BBQ as cooked by Gingerfeck.
3 ) Very heavy boozing.

All the safely accomplished, I am now just about back to the land of the living.

My limited bloggage output this week has probably been due to the fact that stage 3 of Saturday involved three bottles of wine, and the destruction of countless billions of defenseless little grey cells.

I've been running on autopilot all week, and unless I go to the boozer tomorrow after work (which is unlikely) then I will have been off the sauce for a week which can only be WIN of the highest order.

Saturday was great fun. It's always lovely to see the Gingers, as the Ninja is one of the finest bakers in the World, and Chinny knows how to spin a yarn. We were joined by the usual suspects, and as the booze flowed, so did the banter.

As is often the case at a BBQ, there was someone there who 'didn't do meat'. Each to their own - I dabbled with vegetarianism myself for a few years, until I remembered just how fucking lush a nice bloody steak is.

And as always, there was a little bit of the grill reserved for the soya sausages and bean burgers. When all had eaten save for Gingerfeck, I swapped places on the barbie with him so he could have a burger while I kept an eye on the remaining sausages. On seeking the location for the utensils for the veggie stuff, I was advised that he was just using the same flipper as for the meat. Fair enough. His gaffe, his rules. They would never know about the cross contamination.

This got dropped into the conversation on my return to the table (the veggie was sat on the lawn somewhere), with a small discussion on whether this was ok, then Elvis had to go and lower the tone and ask if vegetarians could give blow jobs.

Oooookaay, lower the tone and draw a line and I'm going to cross it. In fact after a couple of bottles of wine I'm going to take a running jump at that line, and hurl myself over it.

Because, as I'm sure I quite eloquently pointed out without being overly loud, repetitive or crude, it isn't as simple as just a can they or can't they.

A vegetarian will not eat meat that has been killed, but will consume animal by products. Sure, you don't see them flocking to Tesco looking for a gallon of bulls semen, but sure as eggs is eggs, if they'll eat one of them, then that's half the DNA of a new life. The spunk is just the vinegar stroke vinaigrette that completes the dish. A nice glossy Eggs Benedict.

So not only can a vegetarian gob you off, they can also swallow with a clean conscience (and chin).

But vegans are a completely different kettle of fish (or mung beans). Due to their very strict rules, they cannot 'do' any by products even if the animal is still alive, nor use the leftovers to make a nice handbag. No eggs, no dairy, no leather, and definitely no man-milk.

Yet this doesn't mean they can't put your cock in their mouth. As long as you don't shoot your load in there, they haven't broken any rules.

And you better be very careful where you do end up spraying your muck as you pull your tally whacker out. If they can't wear animal products, then you're probably not allowed to cum on their tits.

So - rules sorted, and next time your at a barbecue and some vegan checks that no meat products have come into contact with the vegan utensils, it's perfectly acceptable (and probably advisable), to check that her boyfriend hasn't spunked all over the ones reserved for the meat eaters.