when i was small we went on holidays to kerry.
we rented this bungalow and one day the muck savage who owned it arrived with a plate and tinfoil over it. it was a chunk of cooked salmon. my dad hadda rubber stomach and said lovely i'll mill that. just before leaving the muck savage looked over his shoulder and said by the way, it hasta be scoffed by today. there was a fuckin greenish tinge to it. don't go near that my mother told him but he didn't listen. he fuckin spewed his ring up that night.