Thursday, 7 March 2013

Lucky for some

13 oysters - a Baker's Dozen - reduced in the supermarket for reasons only know to the fish counter manager.

He whispers to me, in a thick, Eastern European accent:

"Thirteen, my friend. Twelve are perfectly fine, but the thirteenth is going to poison you so badly, that I doubt if I will ever see you here again. What you have to do is make sure you don't eat the thirteenth oyster."

With that, he slips away behind the door to the cold store.

I begin counting, but lose track of where I started.


  1. Top row, second from the left.

  2. Bottom row, third from left....ignore Raz.

  3. Eat them all - live is too short to count to thirteen!

  4. I ate four oysters on Valentine's Day. I have never been so ill in all my life. Never again. (75% of British oysters contain traces of Norovirus!)

    1. And 72% of all statistics are made up on the spot!

  5. Well, I did eat them all, and that was about 6 days ago, and me and H.I. are still here. HOWEVER, the night before last, we ate two cod fish-cakes from the same outlet, and I still have stomach pains. The illest a friend of mine ever was, was after eating some 2 day old rice which had been left out of the fridge.