Time For Change, Part One: Prawnish Delight

As I slowly march towards death in a humble fashion day by day, I tend to think more and more about all of the things that I have never done due to high moral standards, or just personal procrastination.  Whichever the case may be, I feel that in my mind the decision I make is rightfully justifiable. For instance, as mentioned in a previous Facts, I refuse to eat any form of seafood (even Tuna), simply because I find that our edible friends of the sea taste like stale vomit laced with mercury. Nothing, other than money, could change my mind to even consider licking, much or less eat, a finned friend of the ocean.

But then my moral structure collapsed, and I ended up doing the exact opposite.

While on vacation in July I was having a coursed meal, and the ‘appetizer’ that was being served was an animal of the prawn variety. This prawn also happened to be slightly spiced up, which I’m assuming was to hide it’s vile lead based taste that lurks behind every 'edible' creature we humans pull from the water. Including penguins.

Once it was served to me, all I could do was gaze upon this strangely decorative piece of sea meat, and think to myself of all the times that I had been confronted with the same situation. Loads of food plopped right in front of my face, served only in the most delicate fashion only for it to be the food that you have the upmost hate for.

Then I promptly picked up one of these prawn carcasses and bit a piece of the disgusting prawny flesh off with my teeth and chewed it semi thoroughly. The whole time I gnawed, small pockets of liquidy flesh burst onto my tongue, exploding with every small bite I took before finally letting it slide down my throat so that it could infect my entire body with its putrid, prawny like hideousness.

And you know what surprised the ever loving shit out of me? The prawn really wasn’t that bad. Sure, the pod like flesh popped in my mouth with every bite that I took. Sure, the texture of the meat was exactly what I would imagine it would be like biting into the hide of a giant mutant grasshopper from a post apocalyptic future. Sure, I wasn’t able to eat the lettuce that the prawns were laid upon (because dead prawns appartently need a blanky more than I need a filler in my stomach to tamper down mutant insect chicken seafood hybrid meat). But I was avidly happy to find out that it was an overall delicious experience. I think the spiciness of the meat helped.

All in all though, they didn’t taste that bad, and after I was done eating all four of them (four!) I felt like a true champ, a big boy! I ate all the food off my plate, save for the lettuce, and nobody had to tell me to do it. I did it all by myself!

Why did I perform this horrific act of eatery, having a full mental preparedness that the Prawn would fill my body with disgust and foulness? Like the title of this Fact suggests, it was time for change. I’ve only got so much time left before I can no longer say that “I’m almost 30”, and soon I’ll just have to say “sigh, I am 30”.
 
I don’t want to be a cantankerous old man who refuses to try anything new, or do anything different, just because he’s set in his ways even though those ways are right and true. I at least want to be able to say that I have tried a certain amount of things before I get to that point.  And now I can say I've tried nasty, spicy prawn meat.

So it's a Fact: If I wake up one day and have a hard outer shell, I know what to blame.