Euphemia Haye Dessert Bar, Longboat Key
If there is such a thing as transgressive art and transgressive fiction like “splatterpunk”, what would you call someone who obsessively watches food shows like Iron Chef, Chopped and Man Versus Food and zooms in on FB friends meal posts and culinary photos late at night when he should probably be sleeping?
Transgressive fiction is a genre of literature that focuses on characters who feel confined by the norms and expectations of society and who break free of those confines in unusual and/or illicit ways. The genre of “transgressive fiction” graphically explores such taboo topics as aberrant sexual practices, drug use, and highly dysfunctional family relationships, but is based on the premise that knowledge is to be found at the edge of experience and that the body is the site for gaining knowledge.
Ok, I also like to write about toilets, poop, and weird sex stories but personally I’m about as boring as vanilla. In fact I absolutely love a good vanilla bean ice cream or frozen yogurt. My “edge” of experience is usually my nose and my taste buds. In fact, a recent TV show about taste and food on Nova suggests that because of my weird looking tongue and highly clustered taste buds that I may be a “super-taster”. I know that’s not as good as having the world’s biggest shlong, but it’s something. The transgressive wiki article goes on to say this:
This business about “pungent” social commentary makes me hungry. In fact I just went downstairs and made a piece of challah toast (see my last food porn FB photo) because I knew my time was running out. I dont mean I plan to keel over from a heart attack or stroke or anything that serious. I mean I am scheduled for a “fasting blood test” at my internist’s office tomorrow at 9AM and I’m not supposed to eat or drink anything after midnite. I have 40 minutes left and the clock is ticking…In fact it seems like time is speeding up in quantum fashion… just to make it harder on me.
I also know my internist is going to be PISSED because after noodging and hocking me for years I finally lost some weight and started working out. I reinjured my neck about two months ago hanging a light fixture and since then there’s been alot of challah under the bridge, with the bridge representing my gut and expanded abdomen and the challah representing really really good challah. Is there something at the smoke shops to help me pass a cholesterol exam like the stuff teenagers take to pass their urine tests which somehow magically removes the marijuana from their smoke and THC-addled fat cells and brains?
Ok, I’ve got 14 minutes left until midnight and I know my search for carbohydrate heaven as well as inner peace and personal freedom are coming to a close. The large spoonful of whitefish salad I just had was notably salty but fresh. I’m sure that and the sodium encrusted bagel chip I had it on will do wonders for my blood test too. They might as well just lock me up now because I KNOW I’m about to fail the whole thing. I would rather take the new SATs or the updated Psychology licensing exam right now than give them a blood sample and a plastic cup full of my gout-stricken urine. I think I’m going to pee Kosher salt crystals.
It’s midnite and I suddenly feel (and look) like Charles Laughton in the original “Hunchback of Notre Dame”. Sanctuary!! Ok, I admit it. I’m a Transgressive Transcurean (TT). I just hope the bad patient prison or med-fast hospital ward they put me on has Wi-Fi and the Food Channel.