Larry Thack shamefully pushes his garbage can to the curb, lid closed, not overflowing like his proud neighbors.

Perhaps you’ve noticed that every couple of years restaurants will serve some new dish or appetizer to us and wear it out ‘til we stop ordering it. It seems like they’re all in it together, constructing their menus around whatever President Fieri proclaims. Remember the Poke’ bowl and its many forms of appetizers? This was everywhere for a while. As soon as I figured out how to pronounce it they discontinued it. How about the Scotch Egg? Short-lived. One day we will all marvel at how much Pimento cheese and hummus we were served as a $9 appetizer. And to think, they’d call anything “Street Food” and have us excited to pretend we’ve actually been on a street in a third-world country.
Currently staining the menus of nearly every restaurant right now is the abhorrent catfish. These bottom-feeding scavengers have a diet of dead waste found on the floors of rivers and lakes. Their putrid, rubbery skin lacks scales for the same, barbarous reason a vulture has no head feathers. We are being served a fish that feeds on oil from barges and sewage from factory drains.
Worse still, the catfish is making it onto the entrée page. Surrounded by garnishees and pretty vegetables, it’s the dinner of the Harpies! Fool us not! We are being served a sack of poison. My good friend, the squirrel, has a much more discriminating diet yet is frowned upon as a scavenger. Has everyone gone mad!? In protest I shall publicly proclaim “catfish?”, over and over again as I read the menus at various eateries. That should get everyone’s attention.
I’d sooner eat Carp!