I remember one business trip I was on, we had just finished up a huge project, and went to a local place to celebrate (in New York). For about 6 people, our bar tab was about 500.00, then some of us ordered a crab stuffed lobster for 65.00/ea.
That was a bitch to expense, I'll tell you, especially when our per diem was like 35/day.
I eat lobstereven though I am a vegetariariacian. I do it because lobsters are screamers. I like screamers. I don't care whether they scream because I'm poking their arses or because I'm boiling their butss, I just love me some screamers, that's all. So I eat lobster. I fucking love lobster. Gimme some fucking lobster.
But that drawing seriously reminded me of a lobster with a giant blob of quaffer on its back. Just like the lobster my uncle Sammy had in 1973, in Les Crevetttes De L'Enfer in the Rue Monsieur Fratelli SÃ¨che, 89, in Lyon - a small restaurant frequented by famous artists and musicians like Serge Gainsbourg and Edith Piaff.
'Is this le lobster avec its dos cut open?' my uncle Sammy asked the waiter.
'Non monsieur,' the waiter answered. 'Zis is le lobster avec le quaffer suprise.'
'Excellente,' my uncle said and he devoured the lobster like the hungry beast he was.