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Author Topic: BACON GRILLIN' FAR IN THE BACKYARD  (Read 1151 times)
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Rev. Jerry Falwell
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Bacon Annihilator/Keeper O' the Kollection Plate

« on: January 01, 2018, 05:34:37 AM »

It was a Saturday afternoon….much like any other Saturday afternoon…..I was skanked faced and watchin’ football.....on TV…..been drankin’ since ‘bout sunup and this was early afternoon, so my equilibrium and judgement might have been off just a tad….but that has nothin’ to do with the story, so shut the frick up.

I had just purchased a pound of Petit Jean Thick Cut bacon a few days earlier.  Well, I had the grill out on the patio just starin’ at me through the expensive French glass Home Depot patio doors which led to the patio where the grill was.  It was an unobtrusive little grill….my ol’ lady had bought it for me the previous Christmas….not my choice of grills when I had something I wanted to cook that I wanted to taste good….had a charcoal grill for that.  But this grill was gas fueled….not the normal re-fillable propane bottles, but the small kind you can buy at a grocery store and then toss away….I could get about 3 or 4 grillin’s out of a bottle, so it was a pretty good deal….quick, easy, no prob’…..

The “prob” started when I remembered I had this pound of bacon.  Now bacon is good; I think we can all agree on that.  But if bacon by itself was good, I figured grilled bacon would be even better!  I knew there would be “a little flame-up” from grillin’ experience, but didn’t figure it would be nothin’ a glass of water and a few wet finger-flangs wouldn’t cure.

Thinkin’ is probably somethin’ I should have done more of that day….I put a fresh bottle o’ gas in the grill, got ‘er hot, and then proceeded to layer the bacon on crossways and crossways again in sort of a log cabin fashion.  No problem.  Put the lid down and went back to the football game.

Not sure how much time passed by….maybe 10 minutes, maybe 30 minutes…doesn’t really matter ‘cause once a hydrogen bomb goes off, there really ain’t no good way to stop it…..I got up and went to the expensive French Home Depot patio doors to look out in the back yard to see how things were goin’.  And I would have too, if the back yard hadn’t of disappeared….all I could see was a huge gray cloud that was hugged up against these expensive French doors and extended all the way to the horizon….if I could have seen the horizon….or patio….or the huge trees in the back yard….or the grill…..I’m thinkin’ (there I go again) that somethin’ ain’t quite right here…..if you’ve got a back yard with stuff in it, you should be able to see the stuff or at least the back yard……By this time, I had decided that I might have a “little flame-up” goin’ on so I’d better grab my glass of water and go fix the minor problem.

When I finally found the grill, I waved enough smoke away to have a gander at the temperature gauge on the lid.  Now I realize that those temp gauges aren’t the most precise and accurate scientific instruments available, but when a gauge….ANY frickIN’ GAUGE….reads 950 degrees, and is pegged out about a quarter inch past that, that’s about all the accuracy you need…..a little apprehension begin to set in at this point….first of all, I’ve never seen as much smoke in one place in my life, and when I was a kid, I watched a lumber mill burn in town…..I expected to hear the sireeens any minute and figgered I was gonna get to ‘splain this to the Fire Chief, the Chief of Police, the reg’lar police, FEMA, the Army Corps of Engineers, and most likely my third grade teacher ‘cause she was still alive and still hated me….

Bein’ pretty smart, I decided grabbin’ the grill top handle and throwin’ the lid open might have some side effects….sort of like the Chicago fire was a side effect from that frickin’ cow kickin’ a lantern….so I grabbed a rake I had handy….not that I ever used it, but I like to keep up appearances…..and put it in the handle and tossed the lid open….

Damn….you’d a thought I had a Saturn V rocket buried upside down with about 3 feet of it stickin’ outta the ground and Neil Armstrong on the other end hittin’ the afterburner button…..a damn column of fire shot skyward that looked like an inverted Hiroshima blast post card…..I never realized those grills had so many rubber seals and rubber parts and God knows what else rubber, but they do….I had liquid rubber drippin’ and sizzlin’ and runnin’ all over the damn patio…..I’m startin’ to wonder what the meltin’ point of aluminum is, but figgered it really didn’t matter ‘cause if the fire hit that bottle of propane, the only meltin’ temperature I was gonna have to worry about was temp where the major bones in my body and maybe my teeth fillin’s started to melt….

Switch to Emergency Mode…..got a house right next to this frickin’ pork volcano…got me in the lethal vicinity….gas needs to be shut off…….so…..bein’ dranked suddenly makes me a hero and I dive low, grab the gas control, and slam it in the off direction, I hope….finally the gas flame goes out, but the bacon ain’t givin’ up that easy…..it slowly…and I mean slowly burns itself out.  Probably lack of fuel, lack of heat, or because the molten aluminum smothered it out…..

The rest is kind of hazy…..I had to try to ‘splain to the ol’ lady when she got home why there was a mound of bacon-smellin’ aluminum stuck to the patio, and when she finally figured it out, how to adjust to a five year period of no kittykitty-a-toll….and that was back when I was sorta, kinda, interested in it….
That’s it….no more descriptions of the eyebrowless face, second degree burns over about 400% of my body and an aversion to bacon it took me years to get over….done…that’s it….bye….


If two bitches waller all over each other and put beans in chili...it ain't frickin' chili anymore.
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« Reply #1 on: June 29, 2018, 03:01:14 PM »

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