NaBloPoMo Day 7: Embrace the Ick

Think of something that truly repulses you. Hold that thought until your skin squirms. Now, write a glowing puff piece about its amazing merits.

If you’ve seen Ratatouille you’ll know what I’m talking about. It’s that scene when the uber-snobbish food critic takes one bite of ratatouille and, in a flash, he is transported to his boyhood, when a taste of his mother’s cooking was all it took to wipe his sorrows away. The memory is so potent it actually brings a tear to his eyes.

Rare is the time when, as an adult, you find food that takes you back in such a way, that reminds you of the joys of childhood. But let’s be honest for a minute. Mom’s cooking was all well and good but was there really anything on earth tastier than a nice scoop of your own boogers, especially when they came coated with a generous helping of your lumpy greysih snot? It would be a terrible shame if you could never taste that joy again. Which is why oysters are such a treat. Enter oysters. Just the right shade of grey. Where else would you find that salty, slide-down-your-throat smoothness? That slimy, savory, jelly feeling you can just grab up with your tongue? Don’t even have to use your fingernails no’ mo’! And the way it lands on your tongue, soft, solid, lumpy, wet and, above all, moist. Sure, it comes with champagne but who needs that really? You get the best of picking your nose without actually doing it. What could be more primal? More you than your own snot? And whoever can love it with you, that’s the love of your life. Love me, love my snot – boogers and all. Oyster night, baby! Let’s go picking!

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