The Veal Connection

So I came to a realization today. (With the help of my life coach.) I'm veal. In fact, all of us in cubeville are veal. Check it: Veal is so goddamned good because it's tender, creamy, and smooth. How does it get that way? IT'S NOT ALLOWED TO MOVE! I'll admit it. I love veal. But because the lock these poor baby cow bastards in tiny cubicles so they can't use their muscles which in turn prevents them from becoming tough and meaty, we pay a premium to feed on their supple flesh.

The same goes for us. Corporate America shoves us in these cubes so we can't move around. We sit on our assess for 9 hours a day until they become FAT ASSESS! We don't use our muscles. We become soft and tender and delicious. We also can't fit in a movie seat or airplane seat. We're paid "highly" for our mental acuity while our physical form turns to mush. (Highly is subjective, but in general cube dwellers make more than their hard-bodied counterparts paving over the potholes on your street.)

That's the deal. We're veal. Here's another secret: that's not so good for us.