Squidfest Countdown Day 4

By my calculations the tender little squid are now in Southern Oregon, wending their way on their final journey, wending their way through Wend, Oregon (or is that Bend?) on the last waltz, the swan song, the end dance, finito, done, game over, termination destination, you get my drift? As the late great Nan would remind us, we must bless the Squid Ones for their sacrifice. Only Mighty Fisherman Ed knows the humble sweet comfortable bonecrunchingly ice cold home from which the Squid Ones emerged to grace the Squidfest table. Mighty Fisherman Ed sang them out of the hollows with promise of glory with this, the squid supreme gesture, kamakazi mission, martyred but remembered always down the halls of Bushwacker Ranch. Oh Squid, we worship thee. Oh Squid, we… But I’m getting into the Squid Oath, which is reserved for the holy of holies, the initiation rites. The essential role of our new initiates. When High Priest Ron administers the Squid Oath. The exquisite moments of squidlicious splendor still await.