Meat Free Mondays make an already bleak day even worse

It’s the second term and the joke still hasn’t ended – we all laughed, thinking it would only last a week, but meat-free Mondays are still here. Everyone knows Mondays are the worst day: you’re still hungover from the weekend, and the gremlins in timetabling have put your longest and hardest lectures all on this shitter of a day. So why are we being denied the ritualistic pleasure of devouring hearty rashers of bacon, fillets of chicken or even tuna? Instead, we’re forced to eat concoctions of chickpea-based dishes and excessive amounts of vegetables.

It couldn’t have been any other day either. The desire for a “catchy” slogan – which it really isn’t, more just irritating – means the hardest day of the week has become even harder. The only thing dragging us out of bed in the first place was the thought of bacon and brie for lunch. And there’s no safe haven, not even the elusive Cruciform café has a single whiff of animal product. Soon veganism will take over and the only thing left to eat will be cardboard and coffee. And if the coffee isn’t fairtrade, well…

The most beautiful thing in the world

Even halls serve meat on a Monday now after an outright rejection of the idea. This isn’t concern about the environment, this is a direct attack on those of us who have accepted our guilt and love the taste of unadulterated, wholesome meat. And now it’s war. We need campaigns, we need support. David Cameron and his proclivities for pork shows even the higher-ups aren’t so green. I bet Ed Milliband’s bacon barm blunder happened on a Monday.

With £8.5 million holdings in some of the biggest fossil fuel companies, UCL doesn’t give a flying fuck about your delusions of saving the Earth, they’re just punishing the rest of us to still the restless few who can’t seem to mind their own business. After three years, the divest from fossil fuels campaign still hasn’t reached its goal. It’s time to ask: do we actually care? It’s fine if you do, but refrain yourself from infringing upon anyone else’s right to be a gluttonous meat eater.

Why? Just why?

All we can hope to do is boycott all things green and bring our own smorgasbord of smoked meats. I’m thinking the Lady Gaga meat dress will become a staple item in my wardrobe. Down with the vegetabley oppression, or at least move it to a Wednesday when nobody actually eats at UCL.