Barbecue Man is BACK!
Barbecue Man is not, necessarily, a stupid man – for this particular affliction crosses class and intelligence divides. For some men it even puts them in the same species as the rest of us.
Doctors, writing in The Lancet, say that the patient presents with minor second degree burns, often red scorch marks on his forehead and nose and with respiratory problems from breathing in kerosene soaked wood smoke. In extreme cases the patient suffers from the delusion that he can cook.
I can, and do, cook. I enjoy cooking. I even watch chefery programmes on TV. A lot of men I know cannot cook. In a world where restaurants are closed, they would die. Why these men who preside over their new toy, usually dressed in an absurd apron, think that kerosene soaked wood infusing a cremated steak or horrendous frozen burger burnt beyond napalm on the outside, raw inside, is going to appeal, I do not know. Charles Darwin is silent on the matter. I have attended barbecues where these men are cooking. I simply say to them as they call us out to dinner… “Just chuck mine into the fire… I’m into recycling.”
I continue writing the world’s longest Blawg Review… it will be published on the stroke of midnight on Sunday night/Monday morning… if I am still sober.
