If you’re going to start a movement to change the name of what’s for dinner, you might want to pick something with a bit more ambiance than “sea kittens.”
“Luca Brasi sleeps with the sea kittens” just doesn’t…ahem…hold as much water as does the classic line from my all-time favorite movie, The Godfather.
I mean, I understand why PETA wants us to stop eating fish and all. They believe an international “movement” to change the name of fish to sea kittens will endear us so much to the little slippery creatures that we’ll eat something, oh, more vegetarian. (Um, PETA freaks, do you realize that fresh water fish don’t live in the friggin’ sea?)
But…hey, now…plants have rights, too!
I think PETA’s movement to save the sea kittens has about as much chance of succeeding as Osama Bin Laden’s quest to have a bowel movement in any place other than a cave. (Well, I may be wrong about that, since he probably figures to get invited to the White House for a rap and a crap with King-elect Showbama to discuss an amenable end to worldwide terrorism and American imperialism).
Think about it. Not only would it be pretty dumb to call a fresh-water trout a sea kitten, but, hey, you’re giving fluffy little kittens a bad name. Why, if we call fish sea kittens, surely we have to start calling kittens “cattens,” or something similarly stupid – if for nothing else to avoid confusing our poor kids.
It’s just a corny idea by a corny group whose only good contribution to mankind has been public displays of naked hotties in cages and showers. I always enjoy a free show that doesn’t download malware to my computer, anyway.
I have an idea. When King-elect Showbama sits down with Bin Laden, he should use his serpentine tongue to convince Bin Laden to redirect his creative efforts toward ridding the world of PETA members.
Now that's a movement I could get behind.
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