Not long ago, while cavorting in my abode, my friend implored me, “Harry, would you like to throw around the pigskin?”
Perturbed, I asked him what he meant by “pigskin,” and I was rather addled by his response.
“I mean the football, you ignoramus.”
I was devastated. Discontented, I quickly learned that the use of animal products extends far beyond the gridiron.
Baseballs are made from leather, a cow product. Tennis racquet strings are procured from cat gut.
In fact, nary a sports ball can roll forth from the factory without harm to at least one member of the animal kingdom.
It was at this point that I found myself entering into one of life’s greatest purponderances. So terribly raked was my soul by this alarming news, that my insides quaked from the imperiled discussion that ensued.
“Harry!” my mate pleaded. “Shrimp, too, are animals. Don’t you freely eat shrimp?”
I corrected him, however. My beloved Shrimp Nuggets