Moby Dick, Mon

I was about to obey my brain and start writing a post entitled "Jamaican Cooking Lesson".

In fact, it would have gone a little something like this:

"Today I learned that dry rub is not a masturbation technique, but is instead a way to flavor chicken"

My brain kept running with the idea, though. The synapses had picked up the scent and were bowwowwowing their way to the real fugitive idea. I recalled that what I was making fun of was a way of preparing "jerk chicken". You see where my mind was going with this...

Almost there...

Which reminded me of the greatest innuendo ever written, Melville's "Moby Dick". I could talk your antennae off about the stuff in there. Most people snort at just the fact that (on one of many levels) it's a book about sailors. There's so much more there, though. The cooking of the sperm (with the not-oft-spoken-of-in-these-terms squishing of sperm chunks and finding other sailors' hands), Queequeg and Ishmael in their bunks, etc. In fact, it's like people who don't eat all the chicken off the bone. They just go for the easy stuff. Not my sister, though. She takes it down to the bone.

To

the

bone

.