Monday, May 29, 2006

I'm a Grilling Maniac, and The Boyfriend Encourages Stray Cats to Sh*t In Our Bushes

A short one about my grilling exerience this evening.

It was not relaxing, and did not feel like the "Great American Pastime". Wait, is grilling the pastime? Or is it baseball? I guess I always assumed it was grilling...we're all so fat, it would seem we're doing more grilling than running of the bases, right?

Anyway, so I started the charcoal. I went out with the ground beef and brats...and the fire was out. It seemed the greedy flame had burned all the lighter fluid and then took a nappity nap. I did what any smart and rational griller would do - I doused the briquettes in white gas, which I would use to "spin fire" under normal conditions, and I lit it.

I LIT IT INTO A FIREBALL OF DEATH!

My person remained intact, the wind took the flames in the opposite direction.

I went back out and put the meat on the grill. They burst into flames. Back in the house.

I went back out and put them on again.

I could barely manage to move them around because the fire was so freaking hot. I fumbled with the two burgers, and wiggled the three brats...abort! Abort! We have a casualty...one of the brats has fallen on the patio into a pile of grass clippings! (I rinsed it off...by the time I eat it I'll have forgotten all about it).

The Boyfriend's turn: Salmon for the week. He put it on the grill of death and destruction...and dropped one of the filets into the coals (he called it, "pulling a Carolyn", although I personally don't feel like this one-time dropping of the brat can be a defining moment).

So, he did the only thing a REALLY smart person would do...he put it in the bushes in the front yard where we're trying to get the stray cats to stop sh&*#ing! When I saw starving cats eating grass in the winter, I put some food on the curb, not near the outside litter box of landscaping rocks!

He told me about his massive misplacement of the fish, and we went to see X-Men 3 (with him promising to move it to the alley when we got home, probably KNOWING it would be in the belly(s) of some cat(s)).

We came home...and it was gone, skin and all. I'm sure they'll return when it's worked it's way through their digestive systems...coming full circle into our front lawn for me to run over with the lawn mower.

Note: The Boyfriend put up a tiny bit of a fight for this story to be published (because seriously, I would never write about something he asked me not to). He consented on the grounds that I also mention my "paint chip project". We're going to paint our kitchen, and we need to agree on a color. So, I taped a bunch of chips to the wall, and when we like one, I suggested we initial it. He thinks this is ridiculous and anal retentive (which, knowing me, it most likely is). He feels as though with only two people, the initialing process is super stupid and an "x" would suffice. But what if I "x" one and then forget I did it and mark it again? Why can't we do initials? Anyway, that's my system, I'm not embarassed by my craziness...embrace the crazy. And definitely go see X-Men 3 (which should really be called X-Women since all the badasses are female).

2 Comments:

Blogger Duane Westhoff said...

I love your blogs, Carolyn! I always get a great laugh and a new insight!

6:56 PM  
Blogger Stephen (aka Q) said...

That tale is worthy of Dave Barry. In fact, he told a similar story one time.

A bunch of guys started debating how quickly they could get the charcoal briquettes to light. Standard guy stuff, right? Except they weren't just any guys: they were physicists, and one of them had the bright idea of using rocket fuel!

Which they did, and it was very effective; so effective that the fire consumed the iron grill along with the charcoal. They had to wear special protective gear and light it from a safe distance with a very long stick or something. And wear welding goggles to protect their eyes against the brilliant light.

What I'm saying is, I think you have a career in rocket science ahead of you.

12:28 PM  

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