My Brother
As so many vegetarians wear their dietary habits as a militant badge of some kind, ("You carry seven pounds of undigested red meat in your colon at all times") constantly reminding you how lovely the fluffy animals who've suffered for you are ("How can you eat anything with a face?") and spowing endless anti-meat propaganda ("They spray hormones onto the fish so they grow faster, but this leaves them crippled and blind and in constant pain"), it was several years (about 16) before it gradually dawned on me that my incredibly picky brother was in fact a veggie.

In my defence it was buried in with the millions of other things he would not eat while we were children, which included all fruit (and anything fruit flavoured) any non-white bread and any vegetables which weren't potatoes.

In short; a vegetarian who doesn't like vegetables.

So what did he live on? Cheese pizza and marmite sandwiches.

He should be dead, not 6'5" and built like a brick shithouse.
(greenycrimson I stole the from pyschotherapist, Fri 2 Mar 2007, 0:54, Reply)