I’m vegan because I think using animals for food is wrong. I don’t care about all the thousands of animals that died when the jungle in Peru was cleared to grow my quinoa. They can fuck off.
I’m vegetarian because I don’t think animals should be killed for food. I think it’s OK for them to suffer and die to produce eggs and milk. That’s fine. I love cheese.
I’m following a yogic diet because I went to India and a cow farted on me and I spent 3 days in an ashram so I think I’m it.
I’m pescatarian. It’s not even a word and I don’t have any morals. There wasn’t a thing for me so I just made it up.
I’m following a paleo diet because it’s what cavemen ate so it must be good for you. Man hasn’t really made any worthwhile advancements since then.
I’m lactose intolerant because I wasn’t suckled for long enough because my mum wanted to go back to work.
I’m wheat intolerant and I drink beer. I could explode at any moment.
I’m following the Mediterranean diet because an advert told me to eat margarine made from reconstituted olive twigs and they were all old and Italian and happy.
I’m eating MacDonald’s every day and making a film about it. I wonder if I’ll make myself sick.
I eat nothing because I have an eating disorder. I want to be thin and I’m obsessed about my weight. I’ve not eaten for so long that my body thinks I’m a wolf and I’ve grown lots of little hairs. There is too much ketone in my body. I’m locked in a secure unit, force fed gloop and made to eat chocolate bars because that is normal.
I eat nothing because there is no food because the farmers in my country sold it all to your country.