During barbecue season, there is an etiquette to follow when it comes to this sublime outdoor cooking activity, as it’s the only type of cooking a “real man” will do, probably because there is an element of danger involved.
When a man volunteers to do the BBQ the following chain of events are put into motion:
1. The woman buys the food.
2. The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert.
3. The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill – beer in hand.
Here comes the important part:
4. THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL.
5. The woman goes inside to organise the plates and cutlery.
6. The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is burning. He thanks her and asks if she will bring him another beer while he deals with the situation.
Important again:
7. THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN.
8. The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces, and brings them to the table.
9. After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.
And most important of all:
10. Everyone praises the MAN and thanks HIM for his cooking efforts.
11. The man asks the woman how she enjoyed “her night off.” And, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there’s just no pleasing some women.
A pirate walks into bar and sits down. The bartender notices that he has a peg leg, a hook for a hand, and a patch over one eye. The pirate orders a beer and, while he’s pouring it, the bartender asks: “So what’s the story with the leg?”
“Well it were many a year ago,” says the pirate. “I were walkin’ on the deck a me ship and a rogue wave swept me overboard, and a shark swum up and bit me leg clean off! I swum ashore and were fitted fer a peg leg that very night.”
“That’s terrible,” says the bartender. “What about the hand?”
“Well it were the very next day,” says the pirate. “I were walkin’ on the deck a me ship and a rogue wave swept me overboard again, and a whale came up and bit me hand clean off! I swum ashore and were fitted fer a hook that very night.”
“Wow,” says the bartender. “So what about the eye?”
“Well it were the very next day,” says the pirate. “I were walkin’ on the deck a me ship, and I were lookin’ out fer rogue waves, and a seagull flew over and crapped right in me eye!”
“Oh man,” says the bartender. “And that blinded you?”
“Well no,” says the pirate. “But it were me first day with the hook.”