Tag: BBQ

  • The Retrosexual Man

    Please allow me to vent. I have had it. I’ve taken all I can stand and I can’t stand no more. Every time my TV is on, all that can be seen is effeminate men prancing about, Redecorating houses and talking about foreign concepts like "style" and "feng shui." Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, transsexual, metrosexual, non-sexual; blue, green, and purple-sexual…

    Real men of the world, stand up, scratch your arse, burp, and yell "ENOUGH!" I hereby announce the start of a new offensive in the culture Wars, the Retrosexual movement. "

    The Code:

    A Retrosexual man, no matter what the women insists, PAYS FOR THE DATE.

    A Retrosexual DEALS with IT, be it a flat tyre, break-in into your home, or a natural disaster, you DEAL WITH IT.

    A Retrosexual not only eats red meat, he often kills it himself.

    A Retrosexual doesn’t worry about living to be 90. It’s not how long you live, but how well. If you’re 90 years old and still smoking cigars and drinking, I salute you. If you are still having sex, you are a God.

    A Retrosexual does not use more hair or skin products than a woman. Women have several supermarket aisles of stuff. Retrosexuals need deodorant and shaving gear – that’s it!!

    A Retrosexual does not dress like a homeboy with baggy pants that look like he’s shat himself, or with a gay chain from pocket to pocket. If wearing a hat, wear it correctly – not on the side like a faggot. Blokes and necklaces (unless you are an Australian fast bowler) are out!

    A Retrosexual should know how to properly kill stuff (or people) if need be. This falls under the "Dealing with IT" portion of The Code.

    A Retrosexual watches no TV show with "Queer" in the title.

    A Retrosexual does not let neighbours screw up rooms in his house on national TV.

    A Retrosexual should not give up excessive amounts of manliness for women. Some is inevitable, but major reinvention of yourself will only lead to you becoming a handbag carrying little puss, and in the long run, she ain’t worth it.

    A Retrosexual is allowed to seek professional help for major mental stress such as drug/alcohol addiction, death of your entire family in a freak BBQ accident, favourite sports team being moved to a different city, favourite dog expiring, etc. You are NOT allowed to see a shrink because Daddy didn’t pay you enough attention. Daddy was busy DEALING WITH IT. When you screwed up, he DEALT with you.

    A Retrosexual will have at least one outfit in his wardrobe designed to conceal himself from prey.

    A Retrosexual knows how to tie a Windsor knot when wearing a tie — and ONLY a Windsor knot.

    A Retrosexual should have at least one good wound he can brag about getting. This does not include males who have had cosmetic surgery.

    A Retrosexual knows how to use a basic set of tools. If you can’t hammer a nail, or drill a straight hole, practice in secret until you can — or be rightfully ridiculed for the wuss you are.

    A Retrosexual knows that owning a gun is not a sign that your are riddled with fear, guns are TOOLS and are often essential to DEAL WITH IT. Plus it’s just plain fun to fire one off in the direction of those people or things that just need a little "wakin’ up".

    Crying. There are very few reasons that a Retrosexual may cry, and none of them have to do with TV commercials, movies, or soap operas. Sports teams are sometimes a reason to cry, but the preferred method of release is swearing or throwing the remote control. Some reasons a Retrosexual can cry include (but are not limited to) death of a loved one, death of a pet (fish do NOT count as pets in this case), loss of a major body part, or loss of major body part on your Holden ute.

    When a Retrosexual is on a crowded bus and or a commuter train, and a pregnant woman, heck, any woman gets on, that retrosexual stands up and offers his seat to that woman, then looks around at the other so-called men still in their seats with a disgusted "you rude pricks" look on his face.

    A Retrosexual will have hobbies and habits his wife and mother do not understand, but that are essential to his manliness, in that they offset the acceptable manliness decline he suffers when married/engaged or in a serious healthy relationship – i.e., hunting, boxing, shot putting, shooting, cigars, car maintenance and drinking piss with the boys.

    A Retrosexual knows how to sharpen his own knives and kitchen utensils.

    A Retrosexual man can chop down a tree and make it land where he wants. Wherever it lands is where he bloody well wanted it to land. Except on his ute–that would happen because of a "force of nature", and then the retrosexual man’s options are to Cry, or to DEAL with IT, or do both.

    A Retrosexual will give up his seat on a bus to not only any women but any elderly person or person in military dress (except 2nd Lt’s) NOTE: The person in military dress may turn down the offer but the Retrosexual man will ALWAYS make the offer to them and thank them for serving their country.

    A Retrosexual man doesn’t need a contract — a handshake is good enough.

    A Retrosexual man doesn’t immediately look to sue someone when he does something stupid and hurts himself. We understand that sometimes in the process of doing things we get hurt and we just DEAL WITH IT!

  • The Chilli Cookoff

    Just recently I was honoured to be selected as an Outstanding Famous Celebrity in my community to be a judge at a Chilli cookoff because no one else wanted to do it. Also, the original person called in sick at the last minute and I happened to be standing there at the judge’s table asking directions to the beer wagon when the call came. I was assured by the other two judges that the chilli wouldn’t be all that spicy, and they told me that I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted this great offer.

    I was judge number three. Here are the scorecards from the event:

    Chilli #1: Mike’s Maniac Mobster Monster Chilli

    JUDGE 1: A little too heavy on tomato. Amusing kick.
    JUDGE 2: Nice, smooth tomato flavour. Very mild.
    JUDGE 3: Holy smokes, what is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway with it. Took me two beers to put the flames out. Hope that’s the worst one. These people are crazy.

    Chilli #2: Arthur’s Afterburner Chilli

    JUDGE 1: Smoky (barbecue?) with a hint of pork. Slight Jalapeno tang.
    JUDGE 2: Exciting BBQ flavour, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
    JUDGE 3: Keep this out of reach of children! I’m not sure what I am supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich manoeuvre. Shoved my way to the front of the beer line. The barmaid looks like a professional wrestler after a bad night. She was so irritated over my gagging sounds that the snake tattoo under her eye started to twitch. She has arms like Popeye and a face like Winston Churchill. I will NOT pick a fight with her.

    Chilli #3: Fred’s Famous Burn Down the Barn Chilli.

    JUDGE 1: Excellent firehouse chilli! Great kick. Needs more beans.
    JUDGE 2: A beanless chilli, a bit salty, good use of red peppers.
    JUDGE 3: This has got to be a joke. Call the EPA, I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been sneezing Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now and got out of my way so I could make it to the beer wagon. The barmaid pounded me on the back; now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. She said her friends call her "Sally". Probably behind her back they call her "Forklift".

    Chilli #4: Bubba’s Black Magic

    JUDGE 1: Black bean chilli with almost no spice. Disappointing.
    JUDGE 2: A hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or some other mild food; not much of a chilli.
    JUDGE 3: I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Sally was standing behind me with fresh refills so I wouldn’t have to dash over to see her. When she winked at me her snake sort of coiled and uncoiled – it’s kind of cute.

    Chilli #5: Linda’s Legal Lip Remover

    JUDGE 1: Meaty, strong chilli. Cayenne peppers freshly ground adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
    JUDGE 2: Chilli using shredded beef; could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
    JUDGE 3: My ears are ringing and I can no longer focus my eyes. I belched and four people in front of me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed hurt when I told her that her chilli had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue by pouring beer directly on it from a pitcher. Sort of irritates me that one of the other judges asked me to stop screaming.

    Chilli #6: Vera’s Very Vegetarian Variety

    JUDGE 1: Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chilli. Good balance of spice and peppers.
    JUDGE 2: The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
    JUDGE 3: My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous flames. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except Sally. I asked if she wants to go dancing later.

    Chilli #7: Susan’s Screaming Sensation Chilli

    JUDGE 1: A mediocre chilli with too much reliance on canned peppers.
    JUDGE 2: Ho Hum, tastes as if the chef threw in canned chilli peppers at the last minute. I should note that I am worried about JUDGE #3, he appears to be in a bit of distress.
    JUDGE 3: You could throw a hand grenade in my mouth and pull the pin and I wouldn’t feel it. I’ve lost the sight in one eye and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My clothes are covered with chilli, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth at some point. Good, at autopsy they’ll know what killed me. Go Sally, save yourself before it’s too late! I’ve decided to stop breathing, it’s too painful and I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air I’ll just let it in through the hole in my stomach. Call the X-Files people and tell them I’ve found a super nova on my tongue.

    Chilli #8: Helen’s Mount Saint Chilli

    JUDGE 1: This final entry is a good, balanced chilli, neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when JUDGE #3 fell and pulled the chilli pot on top of himself.
    JUDGE 2: A perfect ending, this is a nice blend chilli, safe for all, not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
    JUDGE 3: Momma?