NEEDLING

Wolfed them puppies down being as hungry as I am. Though they weren’t what I was expecting. The flesh was white instead of pink, and they weren’t very tasty. That’s what I get for buying fish at HEB. I knew better, but I couldn’t help myself. They never have whole fish, only filleted or somehow processed fish. So when I walked in there the other day and there were some trout laying in ice, I bought a couple. Should have known better since they were gutted all ready. The eyes didn’t have that burnt out look, though. I don’t know. They just don’t taste like the trout I’m used to. I mean, they’re not bad, but they’re not there either. At least this little Muscadet I buy never lets me down. That would have been bad, specially since I started the night with a bottle of sherry. I don’t know my sherry’s, ports, and other fortified and or cooked wines... so I figured I’d try something different for once. I uncorked the bottle and poured myself a glass. It was all clouded up and little chunks of deposit and dust floating in it. It looked like the contents of what I imagine one might find at the bottom of the ocean in an old Spanish trading ship from the late 1700’s. One's hanging around with Cousteau and he brings out the bottle of hundreds of years old fortified wine he found in the galleys of a sunken ship. The bottle has shell-fish of all kinds clinging to it. It smells of fish guts and looks like an antique dildo. Cousteau cracks it open, and pours one a glass. What would be in one's glass is what was in my glass from that sherry bottle. Unhealthy brownish color with chunks floating throughout. The smell was nothing to linger about either. I poured the content of the glass back into the bottle and I’ll take it back to the store tomorrow.