Alright listen up, shitcake.
YOU came onto MY blog spouting completely false nonsense and claimed to be defending someone who was also spouting nonsense. You have done no research on the subject matter and provided no sources (probably because there are none, because you’re completely incorrect.)
Your argument is that there is no death involved in the egg industry.
Since apparently the wikipedia article doesn’t work for you and you’re too much of a lazy fucking twat to do your own damn research, I’ll provide a wider range of sources so hopefully you can educate yourself and shut the fuck up and never open your goddamn mouth again without being properly researched on a subject.
If you’d like more, this may be an extremely complicated process for you but go to google.com and type in “chick culling”, and then click the search button. A number of articles will come up and then you click on them and read them, it’s called doing research. Fascinating stuff.
And if that’s not enough for you, here’s a few lovely pictures of the thing you’re adamantly denying happens.
That last one is male chicks going into a meat grinder, just fyi.
You can also go to youtube and find video footage of this.
Now is that fucking adequate or do I need to get a goddamn egg company owner on the phone and have them explain to you that yeah, this fucking happens? Or will you shut your god damn ignorant fucking mouth now?
Tonight’s lesson for dealing with carnists:
Some people are honestly beyond help. Apparently now we’re not just shoving opinions down people’s throats…they also don’t want us to tell them facts, either.
Carnists literally refuse to hear facts.
This whole thing was basically an internet version…
life hack: prove beyond a doubt that you actually love animals by not using them as fucking vending machines and science experiments and clothing items
can we stop glorifying social anxiety and that “awkward girl”?
Because it’s not cute or adorable when I can’t even text my friends for the absolute terror that they hate me
and I can’t go to the grocery store on weekends or afternoons because there’s…
or when you can hardly talk on the phone without freaking out over how to perfectly word every single thing because you’re afraid the person you’re about to talk to will judge you.