Milk Is Awesome, So Suck My Dick

I read this op-ed and immediately bought a pitchfork and flame-thrower.

I’m about to dismantle this pompous fucking windbag.

Mark Bittman, general penishead slash writer, does his best to explain why his personal experience in giving up dairy products is the one true path to salvation.  Through his self-important fart gusts, he implies that milk drinkers are under-evolved Cretons. Like we’re the ones with the fucking problem.

He assaults milk, the most wholesome and delicious beverage that has ever crossed my lips.  This is the equivalent of showing up at a high society dinner party in a fishnet tank top and ripping lines of coke from the gilded frame of your host’s original Tintoretto (he’s a painter who did a lot of classy Jesus shit I learned about in Art History).  This pretentious jackass just outright declares war on dairy.  No diplomacy.  You’re encroaching on my hemisphere, Bittman, and I will not hesitate to Monroe Doctrine the shit out of you.  Stay off my goddamn prop-per-tay.

He starts by waving some racist-ass statistics about how “… as many as 50 million people are lactose intolerant, including 90 percent of all Asian-Americans and 75 percent of all African-Americans, Mexican-Americans and Jews.”  You’re not going to make me feel guilty for being the heartiest kind of thoroughbred, Bittman.  I love all of the races, and spent the better part of my twenties making out with them to prove it.

Bittman goes on to describe water as “nature’s perfect beverage,” taking its side in a fictitious conflict, as if it’s a shelter dog on the brink of euthanization.  No one ever talked shit about water.  Water is king.  Milk drinkers have no issue with water.  We just mostly want you to shut the fuck up about dairy products.  You are not a victim.

This patronizing gremlin then extends us an arm of clemency:

O.K., dairy products contain nutrients, and for those who like them, a serving or two daily is probably fine. (Worth noting: [nutrients are] far more easily digested as yogurt or cheese than as fluid milk.) But in addition to intolerance, there’s a milk allergy — the second most common food allergy after peanuts, affecting an estimated 1.3 million children — that can be life-threatening.

Oh, a serving or two daily is “probably fine?  Well, thank you Kim Jong Un, supreme leader of  nothing fucking important.  Thank you for allowing your wretched proletariat this one vice.  By the way, you can keep the sermon about yogurt to yourself.  I already ate some today with a spoon I don’t even wash, and then chased it with some chocolate milk.  Guess what?  Carved from stone and healthy as a fucking ox.

Milk is not dangerous.

And then that darling little warning about milk allergies.  Life-threatening.  Affecting 1.3 million children.  Are you fucking kidding me, dude?  Do you remember the Greatest Generation, you pansy?  Do you?  They didn’t come home from Bulgaria with shrapnel in their fucking legs so you and some snot-nosed 10 year-old could complain about milk allergies or indigestion.

Sounds to me like you just want us to share in your misery.  Stop trying to scare people into not enjoying delicious dairy products.  I’m not going to live my life not serving ice cream cake because some kid might be allergic.  That, and getting my jalapeño jam confiscated from my carry on luggage by the TSA, is how the terrorists win.  But if you can’t eat ice cream, why does she get to eat ice cream?  You know why, Bittman?  Because she’s awesome and you’re soft.  Yes, I’m talking about your penis.  Life isn’t fair.

Bittman continues in a fashion so loathsome and pitiful that I found myself reading with a whiny Long Island accent (see: lawnguyland) and grinding my teeth into powder just to get through it:

Other conditions are not easily classified, and I have one of those. When I was growing up, drinking milk at every meal, I had a chronic upset stomach. (Channeling my inner Woody Allen, I’ll note that I was therefore treated as a neurotic, which, in fairness, I was anyway.) In adolescence, this became chronic heartburn, trendily known as GERD or acid reflux, and that led to a lifelong Tums habit (favorite flavor: wintergreen) and an adult dependence on Prevacid, a proton-pump inhibitor. Which, my gastroenterologist assured me, is benign. (Wrong.)

Yes, Mr. Bittman, you do have another condition.  You’re a pussy.  I have a condition, too.  It’s called magnificent.  And because I’m magnificent, I’m bad at only three things:

  1. Empathizing
  2. Bowling
  3. Not vomiting when in a closed vessel

Gather ’round, children.  I have a story to tell you.

While my stomach could digest rocks and poison with the greatest of ease, I get motion sickness.  Often.  I’ve barfed on planes, buses, cars, and boats.  It sucks, but you don’t fucking hear me blaming the car, telling you not to drive.  You don’t hear me reciting racist statistics about how many Asian-Americans, African-Americans, Mexican-Americans, and Jews are involved in car accidents every year.  Why?  Because it’s my fucking problem.  Because I’m an adult.  Because I don’t need excuses or pity.  So, why do I have to hear about your digestive failures every goddamn day while I’m just trying to enjoy the rich satisfaction of a glass of milk?

As I’m breezing through the Times, why the fuck should I have to read about what you’re bad at?   Because you miss mozzarella cheese?  Sounds like a personal problem to me.  It sounds like you’re weak.  It sounds like you’re looking for excuses.  But mostly, it just sounds like you’re a pussy.  And that’s why you quit dairy products and moved on to a life of trying to make other people miserable for being better than you at digestion and sexual intercourse.

The insufferable soliloquy continues, guilt-stricken, sobbing with its head on the floor:

Then, of course, there are our 9 million dairy cows, most of whom live tortured, miserable lives while making a significant contribution to greenhouse gases.

TUT TUT, Mr. Bittman.  I’m not sure you see the great hypocrisy here.  A man who makes such a stink with his own gases — hot air, halitosis, and whatever flatulent matter he expelled during his wild days with GERD.  Talk about living a tortured, miserable life.

Had enough yet?  Too bad, because this guy keeps droning on:

What’s clear is that the widespread existence of lactose intolerance, says Dr. Baker, is “a pretty good sign that we’ve evolved to drink human milk when we’re babies but have no need for the milk of any animals. And no matter what you call a chronic dairy problem — milk allergy, milk intolerance, lactose intolerance — the action is the same: avoid all foods derived from milk for at least five days and see what happens.”

Here’s what I know about Mark Bittman: kids think he’s a real dickhole.  They hate riding in his car after their tee ball game because when they beg and beg to stop for ice cream like all the other kids, he narrates the tale of his digestive life and discourages them from enjoying some fucking fudge ripple ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.  Because we don’t need dairy.  Because it could be life-threatening.  But mostly because he’s a neurotic, gassy, killjoy pussy.  And nobody fucking likes him.

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3 thoughts on “Milk Is Awesome, So Suck My Dick

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