When you prefer the taste of brains over broccoli
I could never be a vegetarian even though I have contemplated the thought of only sticking Broccoli and Brussels sprouts down my throat. I’m told constantly that the health benefits of being a vegetarian certainly far outweigh the negativities, but the taste? Not so much.
The thought of only eating carrots without the succulent taste of mouth-watering hamburgers or kebab and chips slowly lingering in my digestive system leaves me feeling a little saddened inside, like a piece of me has died. I mean, I really cannot imagine life without Nandos, just the thought of Peri Chicken leaves my stomach growling. So that got me thinking, how would I be able to cope as a lone (and starved) survivor in a zombie outbreak?
Despite the food depravity I think it would be rather cool being a lone survivor in a real life zombie apocalypse, scavenging food and essentials while avoiding the horde of the dead. I actually have a somewhat dark twisted and romantic vision of what being one of the few remaining humans walking a deserted earth would be like. A single beating heart in a soulless ghost town under the blanket of moonlight as the warmth of my makeshift camp keeps my sanity and loneliness from freezing and going numb.
Actually I don’t think loneliness would be a factor, I imagine it as feeling rather freeing and liberated. No social restrictions and social conformity, being so isolated and alone, I mean truly alone where the only sense of company is the breath that lives your mouth on those cold and piercing evenings as you climb a snow covered mountain to gather your bearings and asset your surroundings, is that a horde of Walkers I see slowly heading towards my direction in the distance or just my distorted imagination?
Ah yes Walkers, or Zombies as they are most commonly known as, I actually can relate and identify with those mindless, wandering, lifeless and decaying creatures as they tirelessly and slowly crawl the long and winding road searching for fresh meat, so basically me on a weekend as I scan the high street scouting for the nearest McDonald’s as I blindly follow the smell of Big Mac and Chicken Nuggets.
Watching those countless back to back episodes of The Walking Dead has taught me the valuable lesson that the real enemy is in fact the living, they stop me in the street begging for spare change, they want me to donate to charity, they walk slowly or stop right in front of me as I angrily rush past them, making sure I make my unhappiness known with a tut or an angry sounding huff, that will teach them for walking so tediously slow in front of me.
See, I can relate to these poor misunderstood zombies, all they want is fresh juicy brains, do you think they really want their head squashed in by a selfish human or their body blown or chopped apart as they hungrily search for body parts to devour? Do you think vegetarian zombies would encounter the same discrimination? I highly doubt humans would fear a vegetarian zombie nibbling on a Carrot rather than a torn off limp.
And so back to the original topic at hand, vegetables and vegetarianism, where I have no doubt confirmed that I am indeed a blood thirsty and angry cannibal. And even though I do love peas, potato and broccoli alongside a Sunday roast nothing beats the satisfying and fulfilling quench of desire than the succulent taste of a large Big Mac meal.
And the moral of the story, it will always be brains over broccoli for me, whether it’s a Sunday afternoon or a zombie apocalypse.