What do Mahatma Gandhi, Paul McCartney, and a rabbit all have in common?
Answer: none of them can sing Hey Jude for shit.
Like many doctors, I don’t like to take my work home with me. When I’m at my Surgery it’s all healthy this, healthy that. But when I leave for the day, I forget about all of that stuff and head down to the Squirrellicker’s Arms for a pint, a cigarette, and one of Eddie’s famous road-kill pies.
So until very recently, if someone had the gall to suggest I became vegetarian, I’d have torn off their right arm, lightly fried it, and eaten it. But that changed when I went for my first ever medical and discovered that my cholesterol and blood pressure were through the roof, I had a 95% chance of getting type 2 diabetes, and my liver had applied for asylum in someone else’s body.
The Doc said I had to make some lifestyle changes or I’d be dead before I was 50. I found that a bit far-fetched as I’m 55, but nevertheless I reluctantly agreed to give healthy living a go.
Restricting myself to half-pints wasn’t as tough as expected, though it was a bit inconvenient to have to go to the bar twice as often. And giving up smoking was easy as the Squirrellicker’s is a known haven for passive smokers. But I thought I’d really struggle not being able to eat meat.
I thought I could never live without bacon (apparently pigs have a similar view) but vegetarian food is surprisingly tasty and readily available. I just go down to the local Tesco Express and pick up some of those vege sausages produced by Paul McCartney’s wife (the one with two legs). I give them to Eddie, he pops them into a pie, and it is indistinguishable from his normal road-kill.
I’m not an evangelical vegetarian, in fact I’ll probably go back to eating meat after my blood pressure comes down from ‘critical’ to ‘really bad’, but I suggest readers think about it. Oh, and one more question …
Why did the tofu cross the road?
Answer: to show it was in no way inferior to chicken.
Cheerio!
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