Joining the LJBTC one Veggie at a Time

In June, we made the annual foray to the LJBTC community. Becoming LJBTC was surprisingly easy — except for the opening day argument, and the last day of drinking.

We met Pussy Joe, Goat-fucking Geno and Patrick, the biggest Pendejo (at least the tallest of the tennis group).

We all headed to the La Jolla Beach and Tennis Club ( It was a mini-pendejo trip with spouses to escape the triple-digit temps in Arizona.

For the first time, we met Pussy Joe’s wife and goat-fucking Geno’s “whatever” (let’s just call his kidnapping victim “Nancy”).

Within 10 minutes, the Bear had started an argument on Veganism.

Jesus, we would have been better off starting with “there is no God” and/or fucking “Donald J. Trump is the antichrist” as the opening topics.

The Bear’s been on an anti-vegan vent for little kids. I think our grandniece is about a-year-old (fuck I can’t keep track) and our niece is keeping her vegan.

“That could stunt her brain,” the Bear said. “We don’t know if that’s good for kids or not… it’s not worth the risk.”

But the vegans were not smelling what the Bear was cooking.

“If you would just get more educated,” Pussy Joe’s wife said. “You would know that we can get all the protein we need from flaxseed.”

Not nearly as fun as a steak and shake… But I said nothing.

I was praying to my list of imaginary gods one of them would change the subject. I was somewhere between Ra and Vishnu when they moved on.

Five minutes later:

“Way to back me up,” the Bear declared with that disappointed teacher glare that says I fucked up again.

All I could say was “sorry” like a fucking Canadian.

I’ll rant all day on this Bullshit Blog, and I’ll challenge the stupid shit I hear my male friends say.

In 8th grade history, Mr. Hermanowski taught me, “you don’t get in a land war in Asia”. And for the same reasons, over the past 30 years, the Bear has trained me, “you don’t argue with a female”.

In both cases, you might make huge advances at the start. Just when you feel like you are “winning,” they will counter attack with some sneaky-ass-low-blow like a winter offensive at night or (worse) compare your sexual prowess to an egg timer.

Over time they will wear you down until your troops (or your dick) shrink from exhaustion.

And just like the Roman Catholic church will never forgive Atilla and the Huns, whatever you say to a female will be categorized and catalogued and come back to haunt you at the worst fucking time.

So yeah, I’ve got a few rants to let loose on vegans (check this blog next week), but I’m keeping that shit to myself at the LJBTC community.

The Bear and Pussy Joe’s wife smoothed it over, and the rest of the trip was fine. But you know if I had opened my mouth, it would have been a verbal Stalingrad. I would have been the one to be surrounded and starved (for affection anyway).

My only disappointment in the trip was I couldn’t get to the bar often enough to use up all the free-drink tickets… Who the fuck closes a bar at 8 p.m. on a Sunday, LJBTC? Shit.

I had to give my last free-drink ticket away. And you know Pussy Joe treated that free drink like a goddamn cookie. I will bet $5 that quarter-cookie-eating-little-pussy didn’t finish my free drink.

4 replies »