Weekend Recap — With Your Host, Biff Biffington

Anchorman #2

Well, the weekend is over.  It was even a long weekend thanks to Memorial Day.

Even so, it is still over.

This past week, which was a vacation week for me, is also over.

Why does time off from work always pass by so quickly?  The only conclusion one can draw is that when we’re enjoying ourselves, space aliens are hovering in the atmosphere in their round saucer-like ships with the twinkling lights and blasting us with time-accelerating beams.

What else could it possibly be?

Be that as it may, there is nothing I can do about it, so instead I’ll just write a “weekend wrap-up” post and be done with it.  And if any of you space aliens are reading this, I would be much obliged if you could go <<<<detailed alien replication instructions redacted by WordPress Bureau of Decency>>>> yourselves.

So, what did I do this weekend?  I can tell you are all agog to read the answer.

The Heat Is On

Saturday was more or less consumed by my driving back from Alabama.  One interesting point here is that when I left Alabama it was about 82 degrees (28 C), pleasant, overcast, and raining every so lightly.  It had been that way most of the past week.  Then, during the drive, just as I rolled across the Texas boarder from Louisiana, I glanced down at the thermometer in my car and it read 102 degrees (39 C).  It was also very sunny and very dry.

What a rude awakening that was!

Don’t get me wrong.  Alabama can be quite steamy itself.  When I grew up in Alabama and Mississippi way back in the dawn of time, I vividly remember summers being very hot and damp.  It was like walking into a barber shop and having one of those hot towels wrapped around your face.  Except they wrapped it around your whole body.  And then popped you in the microwave and pushed the “frozen entree” button.

Anyway, I won’t belabor that point.  I have no less than a hundred blog posts on how hot it is here in Texas in the summer.

Freshly Mown and Groan

To celebrate the heat, I got up on Sunday morning and mowed the front, side, and back yards.  This allowed me to sweat off the results of too much Southern cuisine consumed over the past week.  Southern food is the epitome of comfort food, but the feelings of comfort that descends over one like warm molasses is, in fact, a lack of oxygen making it to our brains due to our arteries being clogged with bacon grease, lard, and butter.  Food-induced comas are often mistaken for feelings of comfort.

That Did Not Compute

I spent a good deal of this weekend looking for a replacement laptop for the one that stopped working several weeks ago.  I was extremely disappointed in my quest.  Until I find one, I will not be able to post the pictures I took in Alabama.  I know you are crushed.

Boy Meets Grill

Tonight I decided to grill some bratwurst sausage outside on the grill.  This fit of insanity was possibly due to the aforementioned artery-clogging properties of too much Southern cuisine.

I can’t even cook indoors with lots of sophisticated gadgetry.  Why would I think I could cook outside with nothing but an open flame and a pair of tongs?  When I cook outside, it is almost always an unmitigated disaster.  Not only that, but cooking outside requires a lot of steps that are not required inside.  For instance, I had to take the cooking grates inside to be cleaned.  I will spare you the details of just how appetite-killing this actually was.  What can be more appetizing than last summer’s baked-on cook-out renderings?

But I pushed through it, enticing myself with the thought of how good grilled bratwurst is.

But before I cleaned off the grates, I had to dispose of a wasp nest inside the grill.

Have I mentioned how little I use my grill?

As unappetizing as scouring a grill cooking grate can be, it is positively hunger-inducing compared to having to do battle with a squadron of angry red wasps while armed with nothing but a broom and a determination to see this thing through to the end.  My pride was at stake.  A wiser man would have abandoned the enterprise and ordered a pizza.

But I am no ordinary man.

I am much, much stupider than an ordinary man.

I eventually vanquished the wasps (though I’m sure I will see them again) and soon thereafter had the grill sparkling and glistening (relatively speaking) and ready for use.  I heated it up and tossed on the brats while monitoring the temperature assiduously.  I should have been monitoring the brats instead.  Over time they took on the color and texture of coal … but the good kind of coal.  Not that cheap stuff.

They were edible … but only just barely.

And thus endeth my grilling activities for the summer.  I have already exceeded the Recommended Daily Allowance of carbon for one year.

And thus also endeth my “Boy Meets Grill” post for the year.

The Dismount

Other than all of that, it was just your average, ordinary weekend.  It was pleasant for the most part, mostly because I didn’t have to go to work.  But that will be changing in a mere ten hours.

Here’s wishing you all a pleasant and wonderful week!




  1. We grill off and on during the summer. And by “we” I actually mean my husband, because grilling takes the time and effort and attention I can only spare for things like reading and lying down. But we’re kind of primitive when it comes to the grill . . . we went through a handful of propane grills before deciding that we prefer good old-fashioned charcoal. There’s just something about trimming a few apple twigs to toss in there to smoke on charcoal briquettes, and waiting much longer than should be necessary, that makes a chicken leg—or a roast, or a burger—that much tastier.

    So . . . no grilled wasp sandwiches, eh?


  2. Biff meister, I humbly bow – I did NOT fire up the BBQ once this weekend. I actually ate CHINESE tonight with the wife and father-in-law. Oh, boy. I agree that the weekend must be under the control of some alien – some timewarp-ish Thanos-like reality going on.

    Liked by 1 person

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