So. It’s been a Tennessee weekend for me here to La Casita Johnson de Santa Fe. A new friend provided me with some brownies made by her cousin—rich brown delicacies cut into the size of large sugar cubes.
“Look, Mooner, don’t laugh at their size,” she told me as I giggled at the mocha nuggets in the triple-seal Zip-Lock baggie. “These are hash brownies, silly. One will mellow you out and a second will kick your ass.”
Friday night, after a long day at work, I ate one tiny brownie, fired up the grill and prepared a buffalo steak, potato, onions and scorching-hot peppers picked right from the vine. As things started to cook, I pulled a big handful of cherry tomatoes from their vines and scattered them around on the solid part of my grill. Grilling was a rather long process as I found myself especially interested in the sights and sounds and smells of our backyard.
“You’re fried, asshole.” It was the Squirt. I was on my hands and knees, sniffing at the herb section of our little garden.
“I’ve got a moral dilemma, my tiny pipsqueak of a poochie. Basil, oregano, sage, savory, mint or should it be a combination of them all?” I asked her.
“What in the world are you talking about? You don’t put mint on buffalo, shithead.”
She’s right, you know. Except I’m pretty sure it was a bison steak. I love mint on some occasions, but not on a cowboy grilled dinner. I snapped-off stems of basil and oregano and tossed them on a cooled fire. I like to finish things for a couple minutes on a cooler fire to allow the steak to get warm inside, but not cooked. I like the “moo” out of my beef, the “baa” out of my lamb and the…
What the fuck does a bison say? What do you cook out of a bison to cook it blood rare? Do they growl? Snort? Grunt, scream? I’m guessing some combination of bull snort and hippopotamus. Old McDonald didn’t have an “E-Eye-E-Eye-O” for bison or buffalo either one.
I didn’t like singing that song as a child. My ADHD would grab my attentions right about the “…had a farm…” part, and I’d be thinking of ways to pester little Susie Ashburn. My pesterings usually involved something to do with Susie’s long, braided pigtails. Buy my silly fucking book and read more on that subject. OK, those subjects.
After my cowboy grilled dinner, a chunk of cheesecake, two containers of Noosa brand honey yogurt, a half-bag of corn chips and another small cube of brownie, I sat on the couch and turned on the TV. The dogs settled into my lap and I flipped the tuner for maybe fifteen minutes before something dawned on me.
“I’m pretty stoned, kids.”
Have you guys tried Noosa brand yogurt? Spectacular!
I finally lighted on ESPN-U, the sports station’s fourth best choice of offerings. “Oh, look, guys, it’s Tennessee VS Arkansas. Let’s watch it for Squattie.”
My buddy, Bob, from over to Squatlo Rant, is a huge Tennessee fan. Regardless of their win/loss record, Bob is a die hard fan. “They’ll just get their asses kicked, Mooner,” Squirt told me, “let’s watch a movie instead.”
“I didn’t see anything that captured my attention, little lady. Let’s just do this for Bob.”
“Fuck Bob,” she said as she jumped to the floor. “Put a movie on the other TV and we’ll watch in there.
I did, they did, and I grabbed another brownie from the kitchen and went back to the game. Among the questions/comments I made—some quite loudly—as I watched the game were:
- Why is this video quality so poor?
- Those uniforms are so last decade.
- ESPN-U has really shitty graphics.
- Oh, would you look at that—Arkansas has another Stoerner at quarterback.
- This Stoerner kid looks just like his big brother except slower.
- Clint had more zip on his passes.
- Wow, look at the fog.
- OK, I need to read the sports section more carefully. Who inthefuck coaches Tennessee?
- This looks familiar.
- What would it hurt to have one more brownie?
I awoke Saturday am and realized that I had watched a rerun of the classic late nineties clash between Arkansas and Tennessee. Then I awoke this morning to discover that USC has fired the giant flaming asshole named Lane Kiffin. Fuckface Kiffin had coached Tennessee and screwed them royally before running off to USC a couple years back.
Anyway, happy Shutdown. Fuck all Republicans and Walmart too!