So, I woke up and Darling asked if I'd come over. I didn't see him yesterday so I thought it would be a lovely idea. I went to his house and hung out with him and his family and had a good time. Then they started getting ready for dinner and I started to get ready to leave for work. I knew they would be eating meat, like most American families, so I was going to leave a little earlier so no one would feel awkward about my lack of meat-eating. My stomach felt the need to start making dying whale noises, and Darling then decides to make a big deal about me being hungry, and I could smell the smoked pork and I lost my willpower and ate said pork. It. Was. Awesome. Bro. My taste-buds have betrayed me.
I left for work after I ate and my stomach shut up like the little traitor it was. On my way to work I got into a car accident. Like, pretty bad on my end. I mean, no one else was hurt, but I had a seatbelt burn and hit my head pretty hard. I've decided it was the pork. I'm never eating meat ever again. I cursed myself and now all meat is unholy.
That may be a bit ridiculous, but really. No. More. Pork.