August 11, 2007
ATTACK OF THE KILLER HAMBURGER PATTIES!
Originally published April 7, 2002
Yesterday, I did about half of what I intended to do. I went to the Super Wal-Mart and bought a riding lawn mower, then drove to Springfield and purchased five pounds of centipede grass seed, a 50-pound bag of 10-10-10 fertilizer and a whirly-bird spreader. I tilled my front yard, raked all the suspicious triffids and body-snatcher pods into a couple of garbage bags and had my "lawn" ready for seeding.
That's when the Meat Man came by. I checked his wares and found them acceptable, so I bought $138 worth of dead cow meat from him. I stored the T-bones, filets and strips in my freezer in the garage, but I put two four-packs of frozen hamburger patties on the top shelf of the freezer in the kitchen refrigerator. I had three racks of baby-back ribs cooking at the time, so I didn't expect to eat any hamburger that evening. I just wanted to keep them handy.
That mercenary little shit Scott, along with his dad and sister, Kristin (a future heartbreaker if I ever saw one-- she's 17 and a lovely young blossom of a woman) arrived around 5:00 and RECONDO23 and his darling wife showed up shortly thereafter. The aroma of slow-cooking baby backs attracts people from all over to my house.
As I was preparing supper, I opened the freezer door to get some ice and one of those packs of frozen hamburger patties fell out. It landed squarely on the second toe of my right foot like a one-pound hockey puck and hurt like hell. This morning, I know why. My poor toe is purple and swollen to twice its normal size. I can barely stand. I believe I fractured something.
Although it's painful as can be, I still see the humor: in my freezer, I have the body parts of a martyr cow, a suicide toe-bomber, a dedicated terrorist and something evil beyond the grave. I'm just glad I didn't put one of those T-bones in the freezer door.
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