Reason #5 Why I Love Mexico: Sushi

Up here in America, sushi is still looked at, in some corners, as an exotic dish. It shouldn't be. It should be thought of as an awesome dish, nothing more, nothing less.

First on this meandering blog post of mine, let us learn a little bit about sushi, no? Yes. Jerk.

The following is from a speech I gave freshman year at SIUE about how to make sushi. As you probably expect, I took it about as seriously as I take everything in my life, that is to say with the passion of Kip Wells on downers. Somehow, I got an A on this -- and the whole course -- and I'd like to think it was from a combination of my wit, Midwestern sensibilities, and keen body language, but I think the truth of the matter is the speech teacher -- a little 23 year old blondie pants grad student -- wanted some of my sushi.

And by sushi, I mean cock.

My cock, wrapped in rice and seaweed. That's exactly what I mean.

Anyhoo, what we now know as sushi was first invented by Hanaya Yohei in the end of the Edo period, I'm going to guess in the year 1830. It was essentially what the Japanese used to counter European's sandwiches during the great intercontinental hand food war of 1831. Suck it, Duke.

This isn't actually Yohei, but we can assume he looked like this because, admit it, Japanese people all look the same.

Many people enjoy eating sushi, and not just the Japanese. Look! White people eat it with Pringles!

There are many types of sushi, including:

Now if you want to make your own sushi, the first thing you'll need is some rice, veggies and or fish, and some seaweed and a sushi mat. Take your seaweed and sushi mat and stand in your kitchen, grinning like one giant fucking moron. There you go:

Next, you'll spread your rice on the seaweed which you have placed 3/4's up on your rolling mat. Push a little divet in your rice and fill with your ingrediants:

Now roll that sucker up like the worlds biggest blunt:

Once you're all rolled up, slice that bitch up like a prison yard snitch:


And serve to your Dennis Quaid look-a-like friend:

Look! He likes it!

In conclusion:

Since we all now have a firm grasp on just what sushi is, let me state this now: I fucking love the stuff. It's like crack, if crack was raw fish and not cocaine and baking powder and hobo's ashes as our 5th grade D.A.R.E. officer told us.

And since I live in St Louis, the only way I could get real fresh sushi is if they made it out of disgusting channel catfish or rainbow trout (they don't). So what I'm left with is sushi which is fresh as a week old shit sandwich. It's still good, don't get me wrong (I'm looking at you Sekisui), but it's not Tulum.

The sushi at the sushi bar in Tulum is fresher than fresh. Fresher that DJ Jazzy Jeff. It's so fresh that I once bit into a roll and come up with a tongue full of fishing hook, and it wasn't even disgusting, it was enderaing ("Awwww, I'm going to need a tetanus shot! How authentic!") The sashimi melts in your mouth and the spicymaki still gives me unexpected boners. It's just that good.

And that's why you, sushi, are the number five reason that I want a time machine to fast forward two weeks and get my chubby ass down to the sweet, sweet beaches of Tulum. Until then, you will be in my wet dreams, giving me boners.

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Are you forearms bigger than your biceps in real life?
Just about everything (pencils, bananas, palm leaves) are bigger than my biceps, so probably.
I vote sushi to be part of Fakesgiving. Who cares about tradition!
I had a lot of fun with my Freshman year speech class, too. I gave my informative speech on Giant Squids and a persuasive speech: "Why I Should Conquer the World." And actually managed to persuade one classmate that I should.
I would like to hear more of your plans, Liam.
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