OK, picture this. It's July of 1971. I have just graduated from high school and I am happily back-packing my way across Europe. Let me tell you, it was Hospice Hell!!!
So one day I regain consciousness and I find myself laying naked on a balcony in Greece. The island of Santorini to be exact. To this day I don't have a damned clue how I got there!!! But I quickly realized that I was crusty. And sort of stuck to the tiles. Which, BTW, were lovely. Oh shit. Realization finally set in. Yes, I had been whoring my way around the Aegean. Oh, and this surprises you how???
Once I had finally managed to pry myself off of the tiles and hose myself down I decided to go to brunch. Aah, yes... "brunch" in Greece. Oh, lord... Twenty minutes later I am surrounded at a table by a bunch of loonies from Harvard. Harvard??? Trust me, this young queen was WAY out of his league!!! A couple of minutes, half a bottle of wine and the better part of a pack of cigarettes later I am letting a woman with the biggest tits I had ever seen up to that date order my entree. It was pronounced something like "2*%#@HH7$$()())%:{[{]]||*8". Of course I say, "Sure, what the hell...".
Ten minutes and the rest of the first bottle of wine later, brunch arrives. OMg!!! I had no idea that what she had said meant "really, REALLY lightly sauteed LIVE octopus". IT WAS STILL FUCKING MOVING!!! Badly, but still FUCKING MOVING!!! FMTT!!!! HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! So, I'm looking at this thing. Oh, my... I actually had a plate full of live octopus with 3rd degree burns in front of me. Yeah, I went a bit deer in headlights at that... Little Miss Harvard gives me that "look" and asks what's wrong. What's wrong??? BITCH, THIS THING AIN'T DEAD YET!!! IT'S STILL FREAKING MOBILE!!! Hell, at one point it tried to grab my wine glass.
OK, I'm a bit perplexed as what to do next. I was starting to get a bit "green" if you know what I mean. And then little Miss Harvard reaches over, jams a fork into this thing and starts hacking off tentacles!!! Oh, shit on a shingle!!! Not only is she cutting my meat for me, but my meat is not at all happy about it. Oh, lord, not happy at all. The next thing I know we have tentacles working their way across the table in all directions and I have one in my lap doing things I just don't want done in my lap Of course, I let out the gayest dog-gamned shriek you can imagine. And this was back when I thought I was straight. Oh, just stop laughing...
Well, I'm pretty much "put off my food" immediately. Then she does the unthinkable. She cuts off the end of one tentacle and starts to eat it. It was still moving. I damn near hurled. Then she cuts off another slice and sticks it into my mouth. It was still moving. Next thing I know I feel a couple of suckers clamp down on my tongue. OH FUTHERMUCKING gOD!!! I hurled. Oh, my, did I hurl. Apparently octopus are immune to puke because the damned thing stayed tightly secured to my tongue. And sort of massaging it, in an octopus kind of way. I hurled again. Trust me, you just don't want anything hugging your tongue.
Half an hour later I'm down at the shore, on all fours, gagging. But I had somehow managed to get that damned thing off of my tongue. It lay there in the sand. Still kind of convulsing. I hurled again. Just to cover it up...
I learned a valuable lesson that day: if it ain't got a foreskin on it you better think twice about putting it in your mouth!!!
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