http://friam.383.s1.nabble.com/Re-words-for-Nick-political-words-focused-tp7598437p7598482.html
won't make it into a Jambalaya (nor crawfish pie, me oh my oh).
> For most of my life, my father has lived two blocks from Lake Erie, and like
> any Great Lakes raised rust-belter, I was raised with a healthy fear of
> large bodies of water (and the alien lifeforms beneath the surface). This
> fear was only exacerbated when at the age of 3 or 4 my mother and stepfather
> thought it would be funny to have me bathe with the lobster we would cook
> for dinner that night. To this day, I still have a very difficult time
> entering a lake or river. Then in 2006, while living between New Orleans and
> Houma Lousiana, my feeling began to change. In the week leading up to Mardi
> Gras, small barrooms offer pots of gumbo and jambalaya, and eventually,
> Louisiana cooking swayed my palette (and psyche) to the fish-side. Shortly
> after, I found myself hitchhiking and camping around the country with the
> money I had saved from a medical secretary job a year before. At a 7-11
> outside of Steamboat Springs, I flagged a ride that landed me in Portland
> Oregon, where I immediately found work dishwashing at a Sushi restaurant on
> Gladstone. With a bottomless miso bowl full of hot sake above the dish pit,
> I developed a taste for sushi by grifting the remains left by wealthy
> Portland patrons. While sushi isn't my favorite food, I can appreciate it.
> Surprisingly, over the last few days, I have had an overwhelming hankering
> for lobster.
>
>
>
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