Thursday, March 26, 2009

This, That, and the Mother Thing.

Busy day here in the city on the … Peachtree.

It was rainy and miserable out, sure, but March 25th is my mother’s birthday. My mother is one of the first people I ever met. I’ve known her all my life. And if she has a birthday, by golly, neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night shall stay me from meeting her for supper. The rush hour traffic on the Downtown Connector stayed me for a little while, but I made it up to Marietta with a song in my heart. Eventually.

We took the old girl to Red Lobster. For seafood, obviously.

I had crab legs and stuffed flounder. I’m not a big fish guy. Fishies kind of gross me out, but doesn’t “stuffed flounder” sound good?

Turns out, once I got it, and looked at its flat fishiness, all I could think of was how those flounders just sit there with both eyes on the same side of their ... heads? ... and how ugly they are. I don’t like to eat ugly. (Despite what you may have heard.)

And, then my mind wandered to the “stuffed” part. What do you stuff a flounder with? In my mind, I was eating a flat, ugly fish filled with flounder poop. It didn’t taste bad, but the very act of eating it conjured nightmarish visions of the undersea world and the terrifying creatures it spawns.

Loved those crab legs, though.

Sure, a crab is nothing more than a great big tick that lives in the water, but they sure are tasty. In fact, I look forward to my mother’s birthday all year. It’s the one day that I have crabs and really enjoy it.

And, Oh! the Calamari! Heaven! All the big, round chewy parts, not the stringy parts with the suckers. It used to bother me to eat cephalopods because they are so clever. That was before I realized how good they tasted. Now I can turn a blind eye.

Same with pigs. They are some dang smart animals. Unfortunately for them, they are smart on the outside, but flavorful on the inside. There probably isn’t a part of the pig that that doesn’t taste good to somebody.

Shakespeare said that! Or maybe it was Bacon.

Upon reflection, maybe we should just eat clowns. They’re about as smart as squids, but way scarier. And nobody would miss a clown if he were to … disappear. But, dammit, they taste funny.

I digress. We had a grand time with me Mudda on her sumthinty-sumthith birthday. I hope she enjoyed herself. I can hardly wait until next year.

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