this is a story about fried clams.
not the kind of fried clams that you would eat at a quaint little crab shack on the harbor.
(well...i wouldn't, but some people do) irrelevant.
anyway, this story is about a different kind of fried clams.
pay attention and you might figure it out.
when i was little, my family went on a vacation to california.
we went to the beach.
i gathered seashells.
i put them in a paper cup.
i took them home with me.
i accidentally left them in the car.
they sat in the hot, california sun all day.
then next morning, as my dad was loading up the luggage,
he discovered a foul smell.
he searched the vehicle for the offending item.
and lo and behold, he found my paper cup of seashells.
only they weren't just seashells.
they were live clams.
well they used to be, at least.
and they had been fried. in the car.
and needless to say, my family wasn't very happy.
seeing as they had to make the 13 hour drive back to utah
in a car that smelled like rotten clams.