Oysters
Last night, Carrie and I were discussing our time in New Orleans (because we have forsaken the Vikings and football altogether and adopted the New Orleans Hornets as our NBA team to tie us over until basketball season).
"Remember when you ate the oyster?" she asked.
"Oh my god," I said. "Yes. I slipped that little sucker in my mouth and thought, "Down or out but I need this thing off my tongue.""
"It was so hilarious," she said, laughing. "The look on your face was priceless."
"It was so bad, I think my taste buds dissociated. They just went away and thought about pizza."
"Remember when you ate the oyster?" she asked.
"Oh my god," I said. "Yes. I slipped that little sucker in my mouth and thought, "Down or out but I need this thing off my tongue.""
"It was so hilarious," she said, laughing. "The look on your face was priceless."
"It was so bad, I think my taste buds dissociated. They just went away and thought about pizza."