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Those crazy Asians, Ernie and Satoru, tried unsuccessfully once to drive me mad by coaxing me into dining on calamari, or squid, for those who haven't brushed up on their food delicacy vocabulary recently. Ernie dished the tentacled mollusks up every way he knew how. He fried the squid. He baked the squid. He boiled the squid in a spicy, Malaysian style soup. Much to his chagrin, my stomach remained victorious to the taunting Malaysian cuisine! I was dubbed Honorary Asian for a day.
What Ernie and Satoru also found disquieting, perhaps for good reason, was my ensuing love affair with a squid head that I had fished from the pot of soup. The fate of our brief but fiery (the soup was spicy, mind you) relationship greatly upset me at the time, but in hindsight, I would say it was for the best. As the pictures will show, I liked to tote my squid head around in my mouth; it was our... Way. This worked fine until, as most seafood will do in time, the squid head began to decompose. Our toting way soon lost its attraction for me, and the relationship went into a tailspin! I called off the engagement and flushed it down the toilet in a fit of anger. If there's one thing that I cannot stand, it's bad hygiene!
I sometimes wish that I had preserved my squid head in a hermetically sealed container of helium to halt its decomposition, because my-oh-my!, did it have nice tentacles, but the pictures speak for themselves.
Ernie frying the squid:
Ernie eating the Calamari soup, and views of the baked and fried calamari:
Imagine the evil thoughts coursing through his brain!
A picture of me toting my squid head:
The way home.
Email firstname.lastname@example.org. He's a nice guy.