It was with distaste that Jack Kerowank peered into the seafood restaurant at the prickly platter shared by the couple in the window. On an elevated silver tray, gnarly pink battered sticks stalagmited at the ceiling, surrounded by frills of lettuce and triangles of watermelon. Kerowank took this personally.
"There's no food on it!", he bellowed. "It's ridiculous!"
"It does look like a plate of battered elbows," I sympathised.
"Elbows! That's what it is, a plate of crab elbows! Crab is such bullshit!" By this stage he'd littered King Street with his exclamation marks, causing rather a brittle mess.
"And lobster! Lobster is so overrated, it's just stupid! Balmain Bugs, now those I understand. But they're not even called Balmain Bugs anymore!"
He shook his head sadly, internally riffing about the woeful state of this mortal coil. Exceptions to this haplessness are few, but Finnegan's Wake and Pull My Daisy have made the cut. "These make perfect sense," he explains. "Everything else seems crazy."
