Me: “I know, don’t say it: you’ll be grilling again tonight.”
Deadbeat neighbor: “Well, yeah, but –“
Me: ” — the smoke was pretty bad last night. My dogs were going nuts. Did you burn the ribs?”
Deadbeat neighbor: ” — yeah, I did, but –“
Me: ” — because I warned you about those goddamned ribs. Gasoline is not lighter fluid. It’s gasoline. You rib-burning jerk.”
As a young, foolish, and unscarred teenager, I once ran out of lighter fluid preparing the grill and finished dousing the charcoal with gasoline. Now, I wasn’t completely stupid, so I stood back about six feet from the grill and threw a lit match at it.
Burning hair smells bad.
Burning ribs should be a crime.