Now.....bout that jail house. We just slept in it for the night.
Ya see, we hit this little town bout sundown. I'm talk'n little. There was a cafe what sold hamburgers really really cheap. We was hungry. Two dollars later an' we both had full bellys. It was dark outside an' get'n rides in the dark.....well you know what I'm talk'n bout, few an' far between.
"Is there anywheres in this town two hichhikers can sleep"? The cafe guy tells us...."you can sleep at the jailhouse, but ya gotta be out by 7am when the sheriff shows up".
The front door is unlocked. A desk sits under a winder. Two wooden chairs adorn the room. The 2 vacant cells contain'n beds an' blankets are locked. The wooden floor is empty. We sleep on the floor tonight. Old stink'n Army blankets are pulled from the locked cells an' we turn out the lights for a restful an' much needed sleep.
It was dark outside when we waked up......only one eye open. No idea what time it was. All that was important was to be outta here before the sheriff showed up. Dang, we could be in one them cells by lunch time try'n to 'splain why we was sleep'n in the jail. We had enough dollars in our pockets, so we weren't no vagrants. How much time can ya get for sleep'n at night?.
We warshed our faces in the provided filthy nasty little sink. We peed out the back door. Folded our blankets an' was get'n ready to depart the premises. "Hmmmmm.....wonder what a sheriff keeps in his desk". Evil kicks in, we ramsack his desk. Some loose change an' a perfectly good pocket knife. We hit the road.
To this day, I regret our actions of the theft of bout 17 cents in change an' a old rusty pocket knife.
Now....on the bottom side of the rock...."I don't give a care" this morn'n. If'n I could just get up in the morn'n an' feel like I did the night before, I would be happy. I do my think'n at night ya know. Tomorrow I'm gonna do this an' I'm gonna do that.....fix stuff, modify stuff, projects....go shop'n....shit like that. Then dur'n the night when I least expect it, somebody climbs in my bed an' beats the liv'n hell out me. By morn'n, I ain't "do'n nuttin".
Speak'n of my wonderful Weber grill.....dumpster time. Now I ain't say'n that I don't like my Weber grill, it's pretty an' all that stuff....but the damn thing....ever thing sticks, an' it's too hot for grill'n chicken. That is unless you like "black" grilled chicken. There is no way to cut down the regulator for a smaller flame....less than 300 degs. I Googled Weber Q reviews, an' I ain't the only one eat'n "black" chicken. Ha....you should a see that ear of corn I took out of there. Throw that sucker in the dumpster.
"Modify it Billy Bob, you can do it".
Now it just so happens, I was think'n bout that last night.....maybe put me some deflectors above the burners. Hmmmm....that might work.
Now for a perfectly grilled steak....I can grill ya up the best steak ya ever eat in yer life. I'm call'n Weber....this ain't right.
I'll leave it at that for this morn'ns blog post, although I could go on for another hour or so. Dad gum mind just won't take a break.
Ya see, we hit this little town bout sundown. I'm talk'n little. There was a cafe what sold hamburgers really really cheap. We was hungry. Two dollars later an' we both had full bellys. It was dark outside an' get'n rides in the dark.....well you know what I'm talk'n bout, few an' far between.
"Is there anywheres in this town two hichhikers can sleep"? The cafe guy tells us...."you can sleep at the jailhouse, but ya gotta be out by 7am when the sheriff shows up".
The front door is unlocked. A desk sits under a winder. Two wooden chairs adorn the room. The 2 vacant cells contain'n beds an' blankets are locked. The wooden floor is empty. We sleep on the floor tonight. Old stink'n Army blankets are pulled from the locked cells an' we turn out the lights for a restful an' much needed sleep.
It was dark outside when we waked up......only one eye open. No idea what time it was. All that was important was to be outta here before the sheriff showed up. Dang, we could be in one them cells by lunch time try'n to 'splain why we was sleep'n in the jail. We had enough dollars in our pockets, so we weren't no vagrants. How much time can ya get for sleep'n at night?.
We warshed our faces in the provided filthy nasty little sink. We peed out the back door. Folded our blankets an' was get'n ready to depart the premises. "Hmmmmm.....wonder what a sheriff keeps in his desk". Evil kicks in, we ramsack his desk. Some loose change an' a perfectly good pocket knife. We hit the road.
To this day, I regret our actions of the theft of bout 17 cents in change an' a old rusty pocket knife.
Now....on the bottom side of the rock...."I don't give a care" this morn'n. If'n I could just get up in the morn'n an' feel like I did the night before, I would be happy. I do my think'n at night ya know. Tomorrow I'm gonna do this an' I'm gonna do that.....fix stuff, modify stuff, projects....go shop'n....shit like that. Then dur'n the night when I least expect it, somebody climbs in my bed an' beats the liv'n hell out me. By morn'n, I ain't "do'n nuttin".
Speak'n of my wonderful Weber grill.....dumpster time. Now I ain't say'n that I don't like my Weber grill, it's pretty an' all that stuff....but the damn thing....ever thing sticks, an' it's too hot for grill'n chicken. That is unless you like "black" grilled chicken. There is no way to cut down the regulator for a smaller flame....less than 300 degs. I Googled Weber Q reviews, an' I ain't the only one eat'n "black" chicken. Ha....you should a see that ear of corn I took out of there. Throw that sucker in the dumpster.
"Modify it Billy Bob, you can do it".
Now it just so happens, I was think'n bout that last night.....maybe put me some deflectors above the burners. Hmmmm....that might work.
Now for a perfectly grilled steak....I can grill ya up the best steak ya ever eat in yer life. I'm call'n Weber....this ain't right.
I'll leave it at that for this morn'ns blog post, although I could go on for another hour or so. Dad gum mind just won't take a break.
Cool post. Sounds like 2 young men learning their way around.
ReplyDeleteGreat story about the jailhouse, back in to good ole days.
ReplyDeleteNot sure why you having problem with that Weber Q.
Ours work like a charm. Nothing sticks and no burnt chicken, we have no thermometer on our Q 100, so not sure what temp we got. Maybe defective regulator not let you turn it down?
They sent me a new regulator (free) under warranty 3 months old, would not get hot enough, now all is good.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteBB, I love hearing your stories! I had to laugh when I read the title of the blog. This reminds me so much of an old Johnny Cash song, "In the Jailhouse Now". And in fact, the song is about his friend Bill. Now tell me, was this song written about you? Catch the song here:
ReplyDeletehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLfYVFamso8 (this is the version that calls the friend Bill).
Jool in N. Texas
Not to ignore the jailhouse or Weber issues but I'm wondering about Sadie Mae. You haven't mentioned her in awhile. Is she enjoying her new space in Georgia? Or does it make 'no nevermind' to her where she camps out?
ReplyDeleteMaybe the suggestions given by your readers regarding the sticking grill ought to be tried. Never heard of the onion one but I'm plan to pass that tidbit on to others. I used a grill brick to clean when I had the restaurant. Bet one would work for your grill too. Just suggesting but have no clue where to buy one. I use coconut oil to season my iron skillets. I love it to cook with
I wonder if burning up those Q folding tables on the grill has anything to do with your sticking problem? Probably not - you would have fixed that long ago, but something I thought of.
ReplyDeleteIn the jailhouse now
ReplyDelete