appa561 🏴‍☠️ @appa_561 - Twitter Profile

Pinned Tweet

7 months ago

I am the Apparax. I speak for the ribs. Actually, I speak for the marrow, the butter, and the ribs. I speak for grandpa and grandma who once felt just fine before someone sold them a pea-protein line. I am the Apparax, old, cranky, and loud, my beard smells of bacon, my voice shakes the crowd. I stand on my hill with a ribeye held high and holler down into the valley, “You go, nice try!” They promised you clean planets and no guilt on your plate, a burger that bleeds but was never a mate. They flew in the peas from the cold northern plains, then bleached and squeezed them, shipped again by trucks and trains. They boiled them in solvents, they spun them with steam, they glued them with gums and a seed oil dream. They wrapped it in polymer that lasts forever I and a day and stamped “Saves the World!” on the plasticized tray. I am the Apparax. I’ve read every word. I’ve counted the steps (thirty-six, that’s absurd) to turn something living and green in the sun into junk that will clog you before you are done. While factories cheer and the investors’ wallets get fat, they swear it’s the cow farts that ruin our plat. Yet their smokestacks belch harder, their trucks never sleep, and the plastic they make could fill oceans deep. Your liver turns sour, your blood sugar spikes, and your children get fat with their plant nugget likes. Your brain fog rolls in like a slow London pea while the CEOs toast the win with another IPO spree. I am the Apparax. I speak for the grass. I speak for the cow and her glorious ass. I speak for the tallow that once came for free with the steak on your platter, not from a PhD. You wanted the sizzle, the drip, and the crust, so they built you a puck from industrial dust. It hisses, it browns, it fools tongue and eye, but inside it’s dead and that hexane shit makes you die. I am the Apparax. I will shout till I’m hoarse. I’ll shout till the mothers quit buying of course! Until trays of that sin are all tossed in the industry waste bin and the meadows grow back and the real meals begin. Until butter is golden and ribeyes are king and the only things farting are cows in the spring. I am the Apparax. Now pass me my steak. 🥩 The rest is just noise drowned out in my wake.

appa_561's tweet photo. I am the Apparax.
I speak for the ribs.
Actually, I speak for the marrow, the butter, and the ribs.
I speak for grandpa and grandma who once felt just fine
before someone sold them a pea-protein line.

I am the Apparax,
old, cranky, and loud,
my beard smells of bacon, my voice shakes the crowd.
I stand on my hill with a ribeye held high
and holler down into the valley, “You go, nice try!”
They promised you clean planets and no guilt on your plate,
a burger that bleeds but was never a mate.
They flew in the peas from the cold northern plains,
then bleached and squeezed them, shipped again by trucks and trains.
They boiled them in solvents, they spun them with steam,
they glued them with gums and a seed oil dream.
They wrapped it in polymer that lasts forever I and a day
and stamped “Saves the World!” on the plasticized tray.

I am the Apparax.
I’ve read every word.
I’ve counted the steps (thirty-six, that’s absurd)
to turn something living and green in the sun
into junk that will clog you before you are done.
While factories cheer and the investors’ wallets get fat,
they swear it’s the cow farts that ruin our plat.
Yet their smokestacks belch harder, their trucks never sleep,
and the plastic they make could fill oceans deep.
Your liver turns sour, your blood sugar spikes,
and your children get fat with their plant nugget likes.
Your brain fog rolls in like a slow London pea
while the CEOs toast the win with another IPO spree.

I am the Apparax.
I speak for the grass.
I speak for the cow and her glorious ass.
I speak for the tallow that once came for free
with the steak on your platter, not from a PhD.
You wanted the sizzle, the drip, and the crust,
so they built you a puck from industrial dust.
It hisses, it browns, it fools tongue and eye,
but inside it’s dead
and that hexane shit makes you die.

I am the Apparax.
I will shout till I’m hoarse.
I’ll shout till the mothers quit buying of course!
Until trays of that sin are all tossed in the industry waste bin
and the meadows grow back and the real meals begin.
Until butter is golden and ribeyes are king
and the only things farting are cows in the spring.

I am the Apparax.
Now pass me my steak. 🥩
The rest is just noise
drowned out in my wake.

3

25

2

3K

appa_561 retweeted

Straight Florida

@StraightFlorida

about 23 hours ago

This is the craziest video I've seen in a while. 👀 Florida man and his wife roll up on a massive Burmese python nest. They're wrestling one giant swamp noodle when another one comes straight at 'em. Florida women don't mess around — she snatched that second snake up like it owed her back child support. They pull out the mama — 16 feet of invasive muscle — and crack open nearly 60 eggs. Over 120 future deer-munchers eliminated in one go, complete with creepy little pink embryos already twitching with eyes and patterns. This is how you fight the python takeover. Keep grinding. 🐍💪

41

448

89

106

28K

appa561 🏴‍☠️

@appa_561

Last Seen Users on Sotwe

Trends for you

Most Popular Users