TALL TALES

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TALL TALES

Post by Chuckwagon » Tue Feb 01, 2011 06:33

TALL TALES... TALL TALES... TALL TALES... TALL TALES...
Here`s your chance to "stretch the truth"!
________________

Hi Folks,
I don`t know about you, but I believe life is just too short not to have a good chuckle once in a while and do a little "leg pulling" with good friends. I believe that a little teasing and repartee is a good thing among friends, as long as it is done tastefully within the spirit of brotherhood. Many ol` timers around the barbecue and sausge making sites have expressed a desire to have a spot to sound off with some "tall tales" once in a while. My friend Steelchef in Canada and I have carried on a friendly banter for quite a while. We speak on the phone every few days and recently he suggested making a "sticky" out of this topic. So... here we go! If you have a good story to tell or simply want to "stretch the truth" a little (as I do), then please join us here. Above all... have some fun! I`d like to start it off with posting a few of my ideas of how history "should have been".

Best Wishes,
Chuckwagon


:roll:
History the way it really, really, was! (or should have been)!


"Butch Cratchity And The Sunburned Kid"

At times, down through history, real facts have become easily distorted. For instance, it really wasn`t Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid who robbed the payroll in my hometown - as reported to every third-grade history student. No, no, noooo indeed! Long ago, I took it upon myself to straighten out all these historical blunders! Yes, yes... and only I... Chuckwagon - history intransigent sui generis extraordinaire - :cool: will soon put an end to this preposterous, pagan poppycock... baseless, infuriating balderdash, and erroneous, whimsical nonsense!

You see, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were incorrigible phonies! They were actually thrust into history books in a nasty conspiracy designed to confuse the western population. Both failed sausage-makers by trade, they made the worst wurst, sad, synthetic salami, and the most hideously horrible hot dogs in hooligan holdup history! Their caustic, "killer kielbasa" contained something called molecular acid, and their "corrosive concoction" often burned holes right through their grinding machine.

You see, the genuine desperados... the real banditos... who really robbed the payroll, blew up a train, and hid out in Robber`s Roost were actually... Butch Cratchity and the Sunburned Kid - the second and third cousins of my grandmother`s sister`s husband`s father`s kid - a mediocre jazz pianist kicked out of a second-rate blues band from Saddleblanket Bend, New Mexico.

Now most folks in these parts say that Butch Cratchity was really an amiable and amicable sort of saddlebum who later became an antagonistic, apostate, apoplectic... the direct result of a harsh and punitive case of harrowing, hindering, HEMORRHOIDS!... caused by his scabrous and stubbled saddle. And it was often said that the obdurate outlaw would often slam doors in front of ladies, steal candy from kids on Halloween, and put soap in the town`s drinking water from time to time - all the prescriptive performance of pervasive pain!

Unfortunately, it wasn`t until 1899 that Butch was introduced to Doc Bosco B. Bunswarmer`s "Compound Concoction H", and finally found relief... eventually becoming a normal outlaw able to perform robberies and other less furtive felonies with some semblance of revealing criminal refinement. Oh yes... the demise of the Sunburned Kid and Ol` Butch Cratchity? Well pards, it seems they had their clocks cancelled by an irate group of jealous, hostile, husbands known as the "Robber`s Roost Roosters". As one of the "Roosters` put it, "These boys were hung... and everyone knew it"!

Best Wishes,
Chuckwagon
Last edited by Chuckwagon on Sat Jan 05, 2013 14:56, edited 2 times in total.
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Post by Troski » Tue Feb 01, 2011 10:29

CW said; Now most folks in these parts say that Butch Cratchity was really an amiable and amicable sort of saddlebum who later became an antagonistic, apostate, apoplectic... the direct result of a harsh and punitive case of harrowing, hindering, HEMORRHOIDS!...

When out west I guess that's why they say "Never leave home without it"
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Re: History The Way It Should Have Been!

Post by steelchef » Tue Feb 01, 2011 12:05

"the second and third cousins of my grandmother`s sister`s husband`s father`s kid"

Oh, relatives huh? I would never have guessed :lol:

Chuckmeister, your writing always cracks me up. Keep it up Pal. we all need to know about sausage makers who have gone astray and those who redeem themselves through whatever PREPARATION is required. :mrgreen:
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The way it really, really, was!

Post by Chuckwagon » Thu Feb 03, 2011 04:58

The Titanic Did Not Strike An Iceberg!

The Titanic did not strike an iceberg - as reported to every third-grade history student. No, no, noooo indeed! Long ago, I took it upon myself to straighten out all these historical blunders! Yes, indeed... and only I... Chuckwagon - history intransigent sui generis extraordinaire - :cool: will soon put an end to this preposterous, pagan poppycock... baseless, infuriating balderdash, and erroneous, whimsical nonsense!

You see, the Titanic actually struck a floating, anomalous object... a drifting incognizant entity - later identified as a carelessly, yet willfully discarded, severely abused, ebony, Model S, Steinway 9` 8" Steinway Concert Grand Piano!

Indeed, the glorious grand was set adrift from a small tuna-fishing troller by my eccentric great-grandfather, Professor E.T. "Fingers" Rockchuck Opperknockity, a renown, and infamous one-armed piano tuner from Stringbend, Idaho! The incident followed a terrible dispute with George Gershwin - a dissatisfied tuning customer who had called Grandfather "Fingers" a doo-doo head after playing a jive intermezzo just as three strings snapped!
"I`d like my money back," demanded Gershwin, the famed music composer.
"Not on your life," replied Grandfather Opperknockity, the legendary tuning-pin twister.
"Then you`ll tune it again, my friend", snapped Gershwin.
With that, ol' Grandpa Opperknockity screeched...
"I will NOT tune it again sir, and don`t call me your friend, you... you... honkeytonk half-note! After all, everyone knows opperknockity only tunes once!"
Having forced the piano overboard, "Fingers" stormed away as he heard the splash. Always getting the last word in, he was overheard to say, "You can tune a piano, but you can`t tuna fish!" And now... you know the way it really, really, was! :shock:
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Post by steelchef » Thu Feb 03, 2011 06:04

So.............Prepare for a lawsuit!
That was my great great granfather's piano that you so bliithey described. The insurance company told him that it went down with the ship. Your ancestor obviously purloined the device under unscupulous circumstances. In addition, my family lost their entire and considerable fortune, investing in the Titanic.

PS: Your recipe for "Cowboy Beans" was a huge hit. I've got the couch tonight but can hear the results from 30 feet down the hall.
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Post by Chuckwagon » Fri Feb 04, 2011 05:03

Pike Peek`s Pike`s Peak Peek

I`ll just bet Friday night`s duck, that you believe Pike`s Peak is a 14,000 foot mountain named in honor of Zebulon Pike, just ten miles west of Colorado Springs - as reported to every third-grade school child in America. No, no, noooo indeed! Long ago, I took it upon myself to straighten out all these historical blunders! And, yes, yes... only I... Chuckwagon - history intransigent sui generis extraordinaire :cool: - will soon put an end to this preposterous, pagan poppycock... baseless, infuriating balderdash, and erroneous, whimsical nonsense!

You see, Pike`s "Peek" is in reality, an historical event that took place just outside Colorado Springs, Colorado at Redrock Rocky Rumpled Ridge High School during the late 1980`s. Additionally, Zebulon "Pike" Peek, a janitor at the High School, just happened to be my ex-wife`s second cousin`s aunt`s husband. The jovial janitor, affectionately known to the staff and student body as "Pike", was wrongfully accused of drilling a small hole through the tile of the girls`s gymnasium shower with a number 8 titanium, Black & Decker, 3/16" inch, brad point drill bit, (on sale at Lowe`s Hardware that week). Pike was allegedly caught peeking at Harriet "Hatchetface" Hagstrom, (the girl`s gym coach), while in the shower following volleyball practice at precisely 2:48 P.M.!

A hero to all 12th grade students, Pike was suspended, pending an investigation that came to be known throughout the entire west as "Pike`s Peek". Unfortunately, the curious custodian`s colorful career curtly culminated when Hatchetface`s croquet mallet connected with Pike`s cerebellum two weeks later. Harriet, having been the butt of every joke west of St. Louis, was eventually convicted of "cloutin` a concierge" or otherwise "clobberin` a custodian" - a new law adopted by the Colorado Legislature specifically approved and passed for Pike`s admirers and devotees! And that`s the way it really, really, was!

Best Wishes,
Chuckwagon
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Post by CrankyBuzzard » Fri Feb 04, 2011 15:57

Hmm, me thinks CW started the weekend spirits a bit early... :shock: :lol: :shock:

Charlie
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Post by Chuckwagon » Sat Feb 05, 2011 00:08

Naw, Cranky Buzzard,

When I was a kid in school, I ran the 50 yard dash in a 49 yard gymnasium! That's all. :shock:

Woodchuck Rockchuck :???:
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Post by CrankyBuzzard » Sat Feb 05, 2011 01:53

CW, NOW we know why the school taxes are so high in CO! Replacing all those walls! :shock:

Charlie
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Post by Chuckwagon » Tue Feb 08, 2011 11:04

The First Trans-Atlantic Flight

Yup... and that`s not all! :shock:
Most people don`t realize it, but the first trans-Atlantic flight WAS NOT performed by that ol' phony Charles Lindberg in his bucket of bolts he called "The Spirit Of St. Louis". No, no, noooo indeed! And only I... Chuckwagon - history intransigent sui generis extraordinaire - will soon put an end to this preposterous, pagan poppycock... baseless, infuriating balderdash, and erroneous, whimsical nonsense!

Actually, the first ocean crossing was made by my grandfather's uncle's first cousin Blanche`s husband, Colonel "Wagonchuck" Propwash, a hard-boiled, bawdy, barnstormer from Fuselage Flats, Nevada, while en-route to a hot poker game in Paris in his trusty bi-plane.

You see, Ol` Propwash loved merely three things in life... poker, red-hot chili, and his beloved bi-plane "Ol' Rip" - the sole means of escaping the constant nagging of his wife Blanche. So, he often gassed up Ol` Rip, grasped his joystick, and flew away to exhilarating week-end poker games in distant, exciting cities.

Now, Wagonchuck Propwash had no idea that "Aileron Ears" Lindberg was even entertaining the thought of venturing across the Atlantic, and in fact, the ol` amiable, aromatic aviator actually became the first to cross the ocean quite by inadvertent happenstance.You see, just before take-off, the ol` fragrantly-pungent Colonel, with his adoration for spicy provender, avariciously consumed three bowls of Mama Maria's Chili, four pickled eggs, three Senor Pepe`s hot bean tacos, a bowl of Brussels sprouts, and some garbage in a rare brie.

Now pards, it has been said that "Ol' Rip" actually contained enough GAS that day, to propel the flying poker menace around the circumference of the earth at least eight times! Commenting on the poker game following the flight, (which has been called, "The Blast To Paris"), ol' odoriferous Uncle Wagonchuck Propwash exclaimed, "I'm returning home a very wealthy man after filling an inside straight flush followed by a royal flush! I guess you could say I really blew 'em away!" And that`s the way it really, really, was! :wink:

Best wishes,
Chuckwagon
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Post by Chuckwagon » Sun Feb 27, 2011 07:33

The First Man On The Moon

Everyone knows historical facts often become distorted. For instance, it really wasn`t Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin who stepped onto the surface of the moon that summer day in 1969 - as reported to every third-grade history student in America. No, no, nooo, indeed! And only I, Chuckwagon - history intransigent sui generis extraordinaire - will soon put an end to this preposterous, pagan poppycock... baseless, infuriating balderdash, and erroneous, whimsical nonsense!

Oh, it was May 20th, 1969 alright, but it was actually my second cousin`s adopted brother, Lunar "Mooney" Ripsuit, a bad-sausage making, stowaway, who descended the ladder and stepped backward onto the lunar surface. Over 450 million listeners back on Earth came within seconds of hearing Mooney`s real words, "Houston... We`ve got a problem!... I`ve stepped in doggy doodoo!" You see, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, actually missed the flight when they lost track of time while playing pool and drinking luscious liquid libations at the Lacy Pink Spacesuit Bar & Tavern in downtown Cape Canaveral. Days earlier, Cousin Mooney and his sidekick Buzz Excedrin, had been sneakin` around Mission Control with their pet buzzard named "Eagle", just lookin` around the place. The technicians at "the Cape" seeing the door slam on the spaceship quickly deduced the correct "astrynuts" were in control. Therefore, ultimately, and quite accidentally, a notoriously bad-salami maker, a second-rate saxaphone player from a nasty New Orleans blues band, and an old buzzard named "Eagle" were launched into space!

About the time Buzz Aldrin was yellin`, "eight ball in the side pocket", Buzz Excedrin was turning his pet buzzard "Eagle", loose on the surface of the moon.
"The danged, pesky, bird was drivin` us nuts inside the ship", yelled out Buzz Excedrin, as he stepped down the ladder. "That danged Eagle has landed", screeched cousin Mooney, shaking his leg while looking around for the moon mutt responsible for the lunar lump he`d stepped in.

Now, I`m not saying our government ever changes actual history, but the transmission that came back to Mooney contained the words, "Cover it up! Cover it up! Of course Mooney thought the words were actual orders to rake lunar dust over the compressed canine composition. As he was looking around for a shovel, he mumbled something to Buzz Excedrin about taking a giant step for mankind... over the doggy doodoo! Buzz gratefully acknowledged and replied, "I sure hope no one else strode through the load".
Yes, although cousin Lunar Mooney Ripsuit kept his secret all these years, he can still be seen throwing a frisbee to his faithful mutt "Moondoggy" and chasin` his buzzard "Eagle", on the beach of their Maui condominium! And that`s the way it really, really, was!

Best Wishes,
Chuckwagon
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Post by steelchef » Sun Feb 27, 2011 08:03

I checked with Chucky's 'Good Lady' and confirmed that he has gone off his med's again.
The anti-BS medication is experimental and there are no guarantees that it will be totally effective even if taken as prescibed. (It rarely works.)

Be scared! He may volunteer a sausage recipe that involves squirrels and pine cones.

DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES DUPLICATE THIS RECIPE!

He'll be back from the moon before you know it!
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TALL TALES

Post by steelchef » Sun Mar 20, 2011 05:23

I'm pretty sure that this guy planned to make sausage!

THE DEER HUNTER

I got this idea that I could rope a deer, put it in a stall, feed it up on oats for a couple of weeks, then kill it and eat it. The first step in this adventure was getting a deer. I figured that, since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not seem to have much fear of me when we are there (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck not 4 feet away), it should not be difficult to rope one, get up to it and toss a bag over its head (to calm it down) then hog tie it and transport it home.

I filled the cattle feeder then hid down at the end with my rope. The cattle, having seen the roping thing before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it. After about 20 minutes, my deer showed up-- 3 of them. I picked out a likely looking one, stepped out from the end of the feeder, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold..

The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell it was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation. I took a step towards it, it took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope .., and then received an education. The first thing that I learned is that, while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, they are spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope.

That deer EXPLODED. The second thing I learned is that pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range I could fight down with a rope and with some dignity. A deer-- no Chance. That thing ran and bucked and twisted and pulled. There was no controlling it and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occurred to me that having a deer on a rope was not nearly as good an idea as I had originally imagined.. The only upside is that they do not have as much stamina as many other animals.

A brief 10 minutes later, it was tired and not nearly as quick to jerk me off my feet and drag me when I managed to get up. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head. At that point, I had lost my taste for oat-fed venison. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope.

I figured if I just let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, it would likely die slow and painfully somewhere. At the time, there was no love at all between me and that deer. In the moment, I hated the thing, and I would venture a guess that the feeling was mutual. Despite the gash in my head and the several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer's momentum by bracing my head against various large rocks as it dragged me across the ground, I could still think clearly enough to recognize that there was a small chance that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in. I didn't want the deer to have to suffer a slow death, so I managed to get it lined back up in between my truck and the feeder - a little trap I had set before hand...kind of like a squeeze chute. I got it to back in there and I started moving up so I could get my rope back.

Did you know that deer bite?

They do! I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite somebody, so I was very surprised when ..... I reached up there to grab that rope and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist. Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like being bit by a horse where they just bite you and slide off to then let go. A deer bites you and shakes its head--almost like a pit bull. They bite HARD and it hurts.

The proper thing to do when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and shaking instead. My method was ineffective.

It seems like the deer was biting and shaking for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds. I, being smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by now), tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the tendons out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose.

That was when I got my final lesson in deer behaviour for the day.

Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up on their back feet and strike right about head and shoulder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp... I learned a long time ago that, when an animal -like a horse --strikes at you with their hooves and you can't get away easily, the best thing to do is try to make a loud noise and make an aggressive move towards the animal. This will usually cause them to back down a bit so you can escape.

This was not a horse. This was a deer, so obviously, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond, I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a woman and tried to turn and run. The reason I had always been told NOT to try to turn and run from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head. Deer may not be so different from horses after all, besides being twice as strong and 3 times as evil, because the second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down.

Now, when a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately leave. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What they do instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you while you are laying there crying like a little girl and covering your head.

I finally managed to crawl under the truck and the deer went away. So now I know why when people go deer hunting they bring a rifle with a scope......to sort of even the odds!!
Last edited by steelchef on Sun Mar 20, 2011 06:15, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by steelchef » Sun Mar 20, 2011 07:19

Well, this is a true story but fits in here I think . No one believes me anyway. :cry:


Chili Cookoff

(A Canadian`s Experience with the Real Deal)

While on vacation recently in the Lone Star State, I was honoured to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original judge called in sick at the last moment. I just 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 (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy, and besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted. Here are the scorecards from the event:


Chili # 1: Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili

JUDGE ONE: A little too heavy on tomato. Amusing kick.
JUDGE TWO: Nice, smooth tomato flavour. Very mild.
STEELCHEF: Holy crap, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.


Chili # 2: Arthur's Afterburner Chili

JUDGE ONE: Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight Jalapeno tang.
JUDGE TWO: Exciting BBQ flavour, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
STEELCHEF: 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. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.


Chili # 3: Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili

JUDGE ONE: Excellent firehouse chili! Great kick. Needs more beans.
JUDGE TWO: A bean less chili, a bit salty, good use of red peppers.
STEELCHEF: Call the EPA, I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now, get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting woozy from all the beer.


Chili # 4: Bubba's Black Magic

JUDGE ONE: Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
JUDGE TWO: Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
STEELCHEF: I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it, is it possible to burn-out taste buds? Sally, the bar maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills, that 300 lb. cow is starting to look HOT, just like this nuclear-waste I'm eating. Is chili an aphrodisiac?



Chili # 5: Linda's Legal Lip Remover

JUDGE ONE: Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
JUDGE TWO: Chili using shredded beef; could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
STEELCHEF: My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from a pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off? It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks!


Chili # 6: Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety

JUDGE ONE: Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spice and peppers.
JUDGE TWO: The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
STEELCHEF: My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulphuric flames. I crapped myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except for Sally, she must be kinkier than I thought. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone!


Chili # 7: Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili

JUDGE ONE: A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
JUDGE TWO: Ho Hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should note that I am worried about Judge Number 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
STEELCHEF: You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I
wouldn't feel a damn thing. I've lost the sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of a lava-like substance to match my damn shirt. At least during the autopsy they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing, it's too painful. Screw it, I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4 inch hole in my stomach.


Chili # 8: Mount Saint Helen's Chili

JUDGE ONE: A perfect ending, this is a nice blended chili, safe for all, not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
JUDGE TWO: This final entry is a good, balanced chili, neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge Number 3 passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor Canuck; wonder how he would have reacted to a really HOT chili?
STEELCHEF: -------------- (editor's note: Judge #3 (Steelchef) was unable to report)
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Post by ssorllih » Sun Mar 20, 2011 18:44

Steelchef starts out with "now this is a true story" . A redneck says,"Now Bubba, This ain't no shi*."
Ross- tightwad home cook
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