When life gives you broccoli, don’t make broccolade. Make life take the broccoli back! Get mad! I don’t want your damn broccoli, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life’s manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson broccoli! Do you know who I am? I’m the man who’s gonna burn your house down! With the broccoli! I’m gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible broccoli that burns your house down!
Here in Germany, I can pretty much only buy them shrink-wrapped, at least in the winter. They get imported from Spain, and I guess, the shrink wrap helps keep them fresh and undamaged during transport.
I imagine, this wouldn't be too different in the UK, but would be glad to be corrected.
"As I lie here on this final threshold, I find myself overwhelmed with gratitude, not fear. My life, now stretching out behind me, has been a symphony of moments. Each note played with passion, joy, and purpose. I do not mourn my end but celebrate my life's fullness. I have lived, truly lived. I loved deeply, pursued my passions, and embraced the unknown. I dared to dream and dared even more to chase those dreams. As i lie here, waiting for death's final embrace, I have but one regret. That towpath broccoli. Why did I not taste it? Why? I shall never know and it remains the only shadow on my - urrrrrgghk... uhhhhnnnn."