Mook Final

A Mook’s Life – Episode 1

Welcome to the first in a series of stories from one of our favourite people and soon to be one of yours – Mook. This series will share the surreal to the hilarious. In this first episode, Mook gets into some interesting situations with friends, family and neighbours – all in the name of veganism.


“The Nonvegan Kind”

“We’re not vegans,” says my neighbour.

My eyebrows rise involuntarily. I feel a bit like a Jehovah’s Witness who, door-knocking in Western Scotland, has been met with a “We’re RCs, pal” and is about to be sent on his way. Except that I haven’t yet uttered more than a “hello” since my neighbour swung open her front door and greeted me with a wry smile.

The unsolicited assertion of the non-vegan status of her family has been provoked by her clocking the words ‘The Vegan Kind’ on the box she had kindly accepted from the postman on my behalf.

“We eat a lot of meat,” my neighbour continues as she hands me my package. “A LOT of meat.”

I must admit I’m caught a little off-guard. The tired joke popular among wags has found its omnivorous partner.  How do you know if someone’s not vegan?  Don’t worry…

“Er, I see. We’re vegans.” I say, lamely, and fidget with my TVK parcel.  “You’re not vegans.”

“Oh no,” my neighbour confirms. “We’re definitely not vegans.”

I thank her for taking the package for us and return to my wee vegan home next door, already anticipating a difficult BBQ season.



I’m visiting my parents and my sister is talking about food choices. “Yeah, he doesn’t eat any animals other than fish. It’s because he’s religious. It’s a religious thing for him, isn’t it Mook?” “A religious thing?” I respond, puzzled. “I don’t think so.” “Oh I thought it was a religious thing. Isn’t it because he’s a… oh what’s the word again..” I blink, baffled. And then I realise. “Paula, he’s pescetarian, not a Presbyterian!”


“Guys & Gulls”
“The seagulls have shit all over my car again!”

My friend is remonstrating with the seagulls who have helpfully repainted his car, as if a flock of airborne and particularly scatological Jackson Pollocks.

“What the hell! I’m vegan you ungrateful bastards! Go shit on someone else!”

He’s shaking his fist and flashing V signs at the seagulls, who circle, unperturbed. Given his and their respective positions, I think my friend is taking quite a risk. I try to mollify him.

“Well, my dad has always said that a bird shitting on you is lucky. The seagulls are just thanking you for being vegan. They’re showering you with good luck.”

My friend gives me a glare that gives me cause to check my wallet contains enough for my train fare home.

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