One rainy day when I was eight years old I went into the garden and found a worm. Actually I had been waiting for a rainy day because after reading about the holocaust and finding out that some people subsisted on worms and maggots I wanted to make sure I could survive in the event of a genocide that targeted American girls.

I found a juicy garden worm about as long as my middle finger and wiped the dirt off on my pants. Using spit and my finger I tried to do a good job cleaning it off, for some reason that seemed important. When it was finally time to eat the worm I put it in my mouth, chewed, and swallowed as quickly as possible. Regardless of the speed at which I ate the worm, and subsequently the speed at which I rushed into the house for a glass of water, the taste of the salty juices and organs sliming around my mouth when I broke the worm’s skin will be vividly stuck in my mind forever.

Thanks Wes for the foot long worm pic!