Oh beautiful land that connects the Dan Ryan Expressway and the Indiana Tollway right under the illustrious Chicago Skyway. You nestle the pristine waters of the Calumet River in your voluptuous, bountiful bosom. This is God’s Country…right next to Gary.
Last Saturday we ventured down to into the “Infected Zone” (i.e. 95th and S. Chicago Ave.) for a bit of smoked fish anna couple drive by shootings. Yall know the name: Calumet Fisheries. As newbies and obvious Northsiders, the first question we get asked is, “who sent you…Bourdain?” They got autographed posters of ole boy posted on the walls like he Mao Zedong (sorry URL deleted by fascists), so you’ll now the co-sign is real.
Fuck the legislation, them smoked goodies is what we spent $12.37 in regular unleaded fuh.
We do thangs plastic cup style, so we take the shit back to the Nissan Sentra napkin-less. Windows get fogged up like the lot at a Phish & Gov’t Mule show. Smoked Skrimps and Smoked Salmon get NAPALMED. Make no mistake, saliva from these joints got us fillin up the muhfuckin Mississippi, yall. We get so caught up in it, we strapped the salmon rope around our necks for multifaceted consumption. Free up the hands for dunking fried scallops. The Calumet Salmon dookie fishchain > Flavor Flav’s Pimp Clock.
Gluttony shout to our mellow, KidItamae for the grabs on this one. Flickr Pool, yall. Sell the farm and join in this madness.
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