If you pay attention to the first two judges, the reaction of the third judge is even better. For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is. They actually have a Chili Cook Off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the San Antonio City Park.
Judge #3 was an inexperienced Chili Taster named Frank, who was visiting from O’ Fallon, IL.
Frank: “Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge’s table asking for
directions to the Coors Light beer truck, when the call came in. 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 score card notes from the event:
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CHILI # 1 - MIKE’S MANIAC MONSTER CHILI…
Judge # 1 — A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 — Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
Judge # 3 — Holy crap, what the heck 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.
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CHILI # 2 - AUSTIN ‘S AFTERBURNER CHILI…
Judge # 1 — Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.
Judge #2 — Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 — Keep this out of the reach of children. I’m not sure what what I’m supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.
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CHILI # 3 - FRED’S BURN DOWN THE BARN CHILI…
Judge # 1 — Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick.
Judge # 2 — A bit salty, good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 — 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 drunk from all of the beer.
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CHILI # 4 - BUBBA’S BLACK MAGIC…
Judge # 1 — Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2 — Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods…not much of a chili.
Judge # 3 — I felt something scraping across my tongue but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the beer maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-LB woman is starting to look HOT just like this nuclear waste I’m eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?
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CHILI # 5 LISA’S LEGAL LIP REMOVER…
Judge # 1 — Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2 — Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3 — 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 the pitcher. I wonder if I’m burning my lips off. It really ticks me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming.
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CHILI # 6 - VERA’S VERY VEGETARIAN VARIETY…
Judge # 1 — Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices 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, sulfuric flames. I pooped on myself when I farted and I’m worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Sally. Can’t feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my rear end with a snow cone.
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CHILI # 7 - SUSAN’S SCREAMING SENSATION CHILI…
Judge # 1 — A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 — Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment.
**I should take note that I am worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge # 3 — You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn’t feel a thing. I’ve lost 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 lava to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing… it’s too painful. 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.
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CHILI # 8 - BIG TOM’SS TOENAIL CURLING CHILI…
Judge # 1 — The perfect ending. This is a nice blend chili…not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2 — This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. So sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of
himself. Not sure if he’s going to make it. Poor feller, wonder how he’d have reacted to really hot chili?
Judge # 3 - No Report
April 17th, 2008
17:53
Food
I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that
course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had
prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented ‘You’re
definitely going to shit yourself’ chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the
point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me
that if you eat the next day both of your ass cheeks WILL fall off.
Here’s the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups
of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No
‘Watson’s Movement 2′.
Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract,
I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to
by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning..
Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when,
I bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I
often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.
Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart
and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn’t
until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the
pain hit me. Oh, don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking
about. I’m referring to that ‘Uh oh, gotta go’ pain that always seems to
hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.
The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt.
In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small
intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I
could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring
sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped
in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I
was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me.
Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my
body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly
woman turned into it. I don’t know what made me do it, but I stopped to
see what her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused
to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been
torn in two different directions emotionally?
Here’s what I mean, and I’m sure some of you at least will be able to
relate. I could’ve warned that poor woman but didn’t. I simply watched
as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of
odor so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and
running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head
as though trying to ward off angry bees.
This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. Mistake!
Here’s the thing. When you laugh, it’s hard to keep things ‘clamped
down’, if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue
burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I
was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that
someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.
Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off
through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole
way, praying that I’d make it before the grand mal assplosion took
place. Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john,
began the inevitable ‘Oh my God’, floating above the toilet seat because
my ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I
was in the middle of what is the true meaning of ‘Shock and Awe’. He
made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, ‘Sonofabitch!’, then quickly
left. Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled
cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee
approached me and said, ‘Sir, you might want to step outside for a few
minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store.
The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two
which ought to take care of the problem.’
That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me.
The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover
his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, ‘IT’S YOU!’,
then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was
unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not
to return. Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was
nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The
next day I went to shop at Albertson’s. I can’t say anymore about that
because we are in court over the whole matter. I think they are going
to be suing me as they claim they’re going to have to repaint the
store..
January 17th, 2008
14:57
Food
1 large roast of beef
1 small roast of beef
Take the two roasts and put them in the oven.
When the small one burns, the big one is done.
A tour bus driver is driving with a bus load of seniors down a highway when he is tapped on his shoulder by a little old lady.
She offers him a handful of peanuts, which he gratefully munches up.
After about 15 minutes, she taps him on his shoulder again and she hands him another handful of peanuts.
She repeats this gesture about five more times.
When she is about to hand him another batch again… he asks the little old lady, ‘Why don’t you eat the peanuts yourself?
‘We can’t chew them because we’ve no teeth’, she replied.
The puzzled driver asks, ‘Why do you buy them then?’
The old lady replied, ‘We just love the chocolate around them.’
I was in Wal-Mart buying a large bag of Purina for my dog Lola and was inline to check out. A woman behind me asked if I had a dog…….Duh!
I was feeling a bit crabby so on impulse, I told her no, I was Starting The Purina Diet again, although I probably shouldn’t because I’d ended up in the hospital last time, but that I’d lost 50 pounds before I awakened in intensive care unit with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IV ’s in both arms.
Her eyes about bugged out of her head. I went on and on with the bogus diet story and she was totally buying it. I told her that it was an easy, inexpensive diet and that the way it works is to load your pockets or purse with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry.
The package said the food is nutritionally complete, so I was going to try it again.
I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was by now enthralled with my story, particularly a tall guy behind her.
Horrified, she asked if something in the dog food had poisoned me and was that why I ended up in the hospital.
I said no……..I’d been sitting in the street licking my butt when a car hit me.
I thought the tall guy was going to have to be carried out the door!
An Irishman was terribly overweight, so his doctor put him on a diet.
“I want you to eat regularly for 2 days, then skip a day, and repeat this procedure for 2 weeks.
“Why, that’s amazing!” the doctor said, “Did you follow my instructions?”
The Irishman nodded…”I’ll tell you though, beJaysuz, I t’aut I were going to drop dead dat 3rd day.”
From hunger, you mean?”
“No, from fo*kin’ skippin’ “the Irishman said.
