A velvet fist in an iron glove.
It's Rebecca, your vegan nemesis. And if I could get this made into a t-shirt, woo-hoo! Too perfect. Maybe a poster for the dining room.
Something tells me that the people who process my meat don't look like that guy...and I bet they don't smile too much either.
I think these are the guys that end up *as* processed meat...you know, that strange crunch intrinsic to every sausage? Ahem. Back to that vegan thing. xo Rebecca.
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