Posted on 04/06/2009 3:15:23 PM PDT by Notoriously Conservative
Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chile cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment, and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table, asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native New Mexicans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy; and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted and became Judge 3."
Here are the scorecard notes from the event:
CHILE # 1 - MIKE'S MANIAC MONSTER CHILE
Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick. Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild. Judge # 3 (Frank) -- Holy crap, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These New Mexicans are crazy.
CHILE # 2 - EL RANCHO'S AFTERBURNER CHILE
Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang. Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously. Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.
(Excerpt) Read more at interestingemailforwards.blogspot.com ...
Once upon a time there lived a man who had a maddening passion for baked beans. He loved them but unfortunately they had always had a very embarrassing and somewhat lively reaction to him.
Then one day he met a woman and fell in love. When it became apparent that they would marry he thought to himself, "She is such a sweet and gentle woman, she would never go for this carrying on."
So he made the supreme sacrifice and gave up beans.
Some months later his car broke down on the way home from work. Since he lived in the country he called his wife and told her that he would be late because he had to walk home.
On his way he passed a small diner and the odor of the baked beans was more than he could stand. Since he still had miles to walk, he figured that he would walk off any ill effects by the time he reached home. So, he stopped at the diner and before he knew it, he had consumed three large orders of baked beans. All the way home he putt-putted. And upon arriving home he felt reasonably sure he could control it.
His wife seemed excited to see him and exclaimed delightedly, "Darling, I have a surprise for dinner tonight." She then blindfolded him and led him to his chair at the table. He seated himself and just as she was about to remove the blindfold from her husband, the telephone rang. She made him promise not to touch the blindfold until she returned.
She then went to answer the phone.
The baked beans he had consumed were still affecting him and the pressure was becoming almost unbearable, so while his wife was out of the room he seized the opportunity, shifted his weight to one leg and let it go. It was not only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck running over a skunk in front of pulpwood mill. He took his napkin and fanned the air around him vigorously. Then, he shifted to the other cheek and ripped three more, which reminded him of cooked cabbage.
Keeping his ears tuned to the conversation in the other room, he went on like this for another ten minutes. When the phone farewells signaled the end of his freedom, he fanned the air a few more times with his napkin, placed it on his lap and folded his hands upon it, smiling contentedly to himself.
He was the picture of innocence when his wife returned, apologizing for taking so long, she asked her if he peeked, and he assured her that he had not.
At this point, she removed the blindfold, and he was surprised!!
There were twelve dinner guests seated around the table to wish him a "Happy Birthday"!!!
Owwy!. Owwy! Owwy!
Yep it goes back a bit. But it is still funny
Too funny
thanks for posting this.
“Judge # 3 — My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I crapped on myself when I farted, and I’m worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Sally. Can’t feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.”
Just too dang funny.
Spelling???....DUNG?
Job I would not like ... cleaning out the Porta-Potties after the open civilian tasting gets done.
What does coke or pepsi do?
Makes the sensation worse. That is why I added (not you friends) to the other reply. If you want the burning sensation to go away, use cold milk or ice cream.
Haha - ok thanks
An oldie but a goodie.
I wish I could use some of Judge #3’s descriptions for the chili at the restaurant where I work. But I don’t think I should. I like having a job ;-)
“Job I would not like ... cleaning out the Porta-Potties after the open civilian tasting gets done.”
That is a job I wouldn’t like under any circumstance. I camped once at an outdoor rock festival that averaged about 10,000 people per day. There where 12 sets of johnnys off the to the side of the stage. Every morning 3 trucks came in and sucked them out and hosed them down. By the end of the night they were literally full to the top.
Hilarious! I’m still laughing. I could feel some of judge #3 pain especially when I remember eating hot banana peppers.
ROTFL
Note to self:
1. give up baked beans
2. warn everyone not to give me suprise birthday parties
3. always check the chili for beans before sampling
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