More shit about farm animals

Today is the day we talk about the one thing I've stuck to longer than anything else in my life, ever; VEGETARIANISM. Yes, everyone, that is right. I am not only a dyke but a vegetarian. Think of the humiliation my family must suffer when we go out to eat and I order a grilled cheese, or when I politely decline the steaks at family get-togethers (every get-together for the last six years). The agony they must feel.

At least they make it seem that way; I know that I have not eaten a meal with my father's family once since I became a vegetarian that didn't have a plea to eat meat or a threat resulting in forced meat consumption somewhere in it. Now really, family? They literally took my coming out of the closet better than they took the news that I was becoming a vegetarian; which in hindsight is amazing but also ridiculous -- they are so concerned with me eating meat that they're willing to look past the fact that I'm fucking a girl? Alright, whatever, I'm alright with that.

Just a few things that have been said to me within the last few weeks:

"I'll give you thirty dollars if you eat this chicken." What? You don't have a job.

"YOU HAVE TO EAT MEAT OR ELSE I'LL PUT IT IN YOUR FOOD AND YOU WON'T KNOW IT." Alright. Cool.

"It's not going to kill you." Au contraire, haven't you ever heard of mad cow disease?

Really any mixture of those things often with some guilt thrown in and maybe a little yelling if everyone's feeling exceptionally saucy that day.