WHY YOU NEED TOFU AND TEMPEH

Among the nature which we have and you don't (if you are not an American) is the fabulous turkey vulture. Appearance-wise a close cousin to both Benjamin Franklin's favourite bird, as well as the thing we settled on because it was big and majestic and ate fish. They circle over the wilds of Marin County, they roost on some lady's back deck in the Santa Cruz mountains, and they visit my friend John in Georgia on a weekly basis. And they go to Berkeley.

Except mine. He's snoring right now and cuddled up against a teddy bear.
Because he's rather a wuss and citified.

Fierce and majestic, he soars over the waste lands.
Not.


I've actually never seen a wild turkey vulture up close. The nearest I have been was when a specimen swooped within fifteen feet of me at the bus stop along the freeway, probably one with bad eye sight who presumed me to be dead and edible.
Both of which I am very much not.

Naturally I let out a squawk, and flapped my "wings".
Go away, little fella, shoo shoo.
No food here!


See, I am a smoker. And that means that animals, like Berkeleyites and Vegans, would die if they ate me. My flesh is loaded with toxins, and glows in the dark if you leave bits of it out on the mudbanks for the wildlife to eat. Trust me on this.


Anyway, they like fatty inner thighs.
I don't have those.




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