Barbeques are Cunts

I have been threatened with a barbeque this afternoon after
skillfully avoiding having one all year, and last, by using the
simple,yet effective method of lying about the weather fore-
cast.You see I am very good at forecasting the weather,unlike
those gobshites in the Met. office.As the weather was important
to my work in a previous incarnation I became quite adept at
reading the charts and coming up with my own conclusions
with the result that my word (on the weather) is gospel in our
house.

As in "What,barbeque today ?,are you mad ?, sure its going to
piss rain." or

"Barbeque in that lazy wind,it'd rather go through you than
around you." or

"Yes,why not,we should be finished before the rain comes."

I am still very accurate ,when it suits me,but for some
strange reason nobody listens to me anymore ???

Two years ago, in a moment of madness,I let Malicia talk me
in to buying one of those new-fangled gas barbeques that does
everything for you, including ruining your food,only more eff-
icently.We'll stop right here while I mention that,as I have said
before,even though I am a very slow,one-fingered typist,I ref-
use to use that horrible word baaaaaaaaarby as it seems to
make the whole proceedings sound even more common and
distasteful.So,getting back to the purchase of the gas-b.,the
novelty of having Malicia cooking outside continued all that
Summer and I took a rest from the kitchen.I normally do
most of our cooking because I'm not bad at it,have the time
and find it to be less of a chore than Malicia does, so fair's
fair,eitherways,she enjoyed the novelty in much the same
way as normal husbands presumably do.

I have no objection to barbeques in theory,in theory they're
fine,its the actuality with which I have problems .Firstly its
the waste of good food that I deplore,no food tastes better
for having been incinerated,in fact it is rare to be served fare
that is reasonably above the standard of edibility.Even if the
cook manages to get some of the meat/fish ready for con-
sumption without destroying it completely,they will surely
make a bollix of something else to be served,the potatoes
too raw or burned,the coleslaw sour,the asparagus as black
as a porn star's micky.

If you are having a b. in your own garden,there seems to be
more preparation involved than for a full Christmas Dinner,
except you have to carry all your stuff outside,and you will
have forgotten several items,involving many more trips back
to the house.Someone has to do the marinades and make
the relishes and dips,me,and carry out the awkward and
heavy stuff,me.

If you have forgotten what happened last time and invite a
few guests,they hang around like Seagulls,watching every
move you make,or worse,offering to help.And theres always
one,isn't there.Oh you know who you are,in spite of all the
warnings from his/her partner to behave themselves this
time and that an eye will be upon them at all times,still man-
age to escape the watcher and make an absolute Poultice of
themselves,forgetting or ignoring the fact that Sun,Gargle
and empty stomachs do not make great bedfellows.

We won't even mention the flies,bluebottles and other insects
that exist solely to irritate us,when not pre-occupied with
spreading disease across our food.Or the arsehole neighbours
who must be watching through binoculars before rushing out
and starting the grass -cutting relay,as soon as one bastard
stops another starts,sometimes with a strimmer.I swear to
fuck,even though our nearest neighbour is 100 yards away,
he made so much noise yesterday,I couldn't hear myself fart,
including during the match.What sort of heathens are these
people ?

No,give me good food,well prepared and all ready at the same
time,civilized .

Anyway,I think its going to rain.