Apparently “Scampi” Translates into “Massive Headache”

This time of year brings about a special holiday that holds a very special place in my heart. It’s an occasion that I love to share with family, friends and loved ones. It’s the one holiday we can all rally behind regardless of race, gender or creed. I am speaking, of course, about Endless Shrimp Fest, available only at Red Lobster. I arrived at the local Red Lobster with my two roommates in tow (both forced to participate against their will to some degree). Upon entering the fine dining seafood establishment, we were informed that there would be a 25 minute wait. But in the spirit of Endless Shrimp Fest, I was able to perform an ESF miracle and get us a table mere moments after we’d put our name on the list. We sat down at our table at approximately 7:10pm, PST. At 8:44pm, the three of us had consumed 318 various varieties of shrimp, three fully-loaded baked potatoes, two salads, and three baskets of garlic cheese rolls. Somehow we did this without anyone puking or having to go to the ER. For those of you keeping score at home, the individual breakdown was as follows:

Aaron — 101 shrimp, one loaded baked potato, one salad, several garlic-cheese rolls
Jason — 102 shrimp, one loaded baked potato, several garlic-cheese rolls
Dustin — 115 shrimp, one loaded baked potato, one salad (with bleu cheese dressing), one side of rice pilaf, several garlic-cheese rolls

There are equal parts pride and shame that sweep over you after performing such a feat of stomach-expanding magnitude. I’m particularly proud of myself for locking down the MVP award for the night’s activities, but the roomies should get honorable mention for really digging deep and coming through when it counted most. You learn a lot about yourself after consuming 115 lemon-butter soaked shellfish. Maybe a little too much about yourself. Personal, esoteric discoveries aside, I also discovered that shrimp scampi start to give you a wicked headache right around number 65. A headache that won’t go away for three hours (and counting). But it’s so worth it…when you get in that zone — the “Shrimper’s High” as I like to call it — all you can do is focus your energy on the next batch of hand-breaded shrimp and the accompanying cocktail sauce. On the upside, I believe that because of this event, I now have the power to breathe underwater indefinitely. So that’s a bonus.

I wrote and recorded a new song today on my Mac. About halfway through this process I realized that the song I was writing and recording was actually a very famous Beatles song. This didn’t stop me from finishing the recording, just in the same way it won’t stop me from taking credit for writing the song on the off chance I can find someone to play it for who’s never heard of The Beatles.

On the hard-drugs front, I’m watching Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas right now, and I’m not sure how I feel about the movie in general, aside from it confirms my belief that I would not enjoy doing drugs of any sort. I’ll stick to classy self-medication like doing shots of Nyquil in the bathroom of my local CVS. I’m kidding, Mom (because I know you read this and take everything too literally for my own good).

Happy shrimping,
Dustin

P.S. I will pay ten American dollars to anyone who can give me a legitimate reason why the world needs a "Best of Hilary Duff" album. There's an extra five euros in it for you if you can tell me how it must make her feel to have already accomplished the "best" of her life's work by age 21. And does that work include anything from her days as Lizzie McGuire? Methinks not.