Have you read the recent reports about the seaman who the whale swallowed? Reporters are dying to know how he got out, but the seaman won’t budge.
When pressed, the seaman got defensive. “I don’t know,” said the seaman. “I guess I wasn’t his type!”
The seaman was totally offended that the whale didn’t even take a leg. “I’ll bet you twenty lobsters I smell better than Captain Ahab who got his leg ripped off, but that big ass whale didn't even take a nibble of me. What am I? Chopped liver?”
The regurgitated seaman claims he can’t even date since being spit-up. “It’s not the being eaten and vomited out that traumatized me,” he said. “It’s the idea that I am not remotely delicious. Who’s gonna wanna kiss a guy that a whale doesn’t even want to eat?”
The seaman says he is too embarrassed to go back to work. “I could see it on my co-workers' faces when the whale spit me out. They were giggling, and it wasn’t a nervous giggle either. It was mockery. That giant mammal eats stinky crustaceans, herring, and anchovies, and I didn’t smell good enough for a bite? It was humiliating. I can’t show my face around the docks until that thing takes a bite out of me.”
The last time I saw the seaman, he had slathered himself in krill and was floating on a leaky raft. I wish him well, but like my grandma used to say, “Man covered in krill in shark tested ocean doens’t necessarily meet whale.”