I woke up this morning with the strangest craving for fried clams.

Which is not a good thing. Fried clams make me a bit of a travelling methane distributor. I get gassy, when I eat fried clams.

God Of Thunder I am, after a plate of fried clams…

So, why would I even consider adding fried clams into my metabolic process? Is there even such a thing as a metabolic process? Probably not, but that sounded a heck of a lot nicer than anything related to intestinal fortitude, or blasting caps.

Where can I get fried clams at this time of day?? It’s not like we have a package of Captain Highliner’s Fried Clams in the freezer. And what with this being the wind-swept, ocean-deprived Canadian prairies, I can’t just pull on my clam-diggers, and go dig up a handful of the little beggars.

Looks like toast again, this morning…

Sigh…

Chow for now!