The karmic rewards of becoming a vegetarian

 ‘Is that you, Sister?’ It was Tom misdialling again with those thick, stubby fingers of his. ‘No, it’s me: Jerry,’ I said. I held the phone away from my ear as he whooped and yelled his love and overjoyed greetings. Tom, unfortunately, is going to hell on a poker. No one has seen him sober or straight for months. Mention his name to any local personality who is proud of being a reprobate and they go all prissy on you. ‘He’ll be dead in a year the way he’s going,’ they’ll say, shaking their heads. Or it’s, ‘Someone needs to have a serious word with that guy.’

Tom is another of Sharon’s exes. He was the one after me. When Sharon introduced me to him in the pub, the first thing he told me about himself was that he had broken every bone in his body. Then he conscientiously showed me his dick to show that he was up to the job.