Because I spent my early years breathing in the exhalations of two chain smokers I have developed a superhuman sense of smell. Blindfolded, I could tell who you were just by smelling you, or your house, or anything that came from your house. On this occasion I was sat next to Christina who gesticulated wildly with her fork, the speared flesh dangling off it as if she were fly-fishing. Only two inches from my nose. As usual, the conversation turned towards vegetarianism. She insisted that people were natural carnivores. Instead of arguing with her, I threw up on her shoes.
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