I’ve been into cephalopod-based snacks for a bit. When my crew and I first starting getting toight with that bivalve shit in Dubsburg NY back in the slash deuce I knew already that within a few months it was going to get next level. Some of the kids in Japan were doing it right a couple of years before, and when you’re tapped into the scene like I am it’s like you’re living in the future. I did a photoshoot in Nagasaki last June just to see how they do the squids. Blitzkrieg style. Get in. Get out. Maximum damage. Leave them glowing.
But to really know what makes the flavor you have to taste the danger. And we definitely had our share. Halfway through the seventh bag of squid Killian went down. Hard. His NJS MSG inhibitor exploded without warning. None of us expected it, because that thing totally looked the shit. But sometimes you have to roll with them what brought you. So we did. We pumped him up with a pecan roll I stashed in my dance belt for just such an occasion. This wasn’t my first rodeo. He came through, and insisted on finishing the bag. And that’s what it’s all about. It’s the love of the squid that brings us together in the end. And when all you’re left with is the salty residue on your fingers, and the memories, you know it was worth it.