A porcine revenge

We awoke to spilled booze on the table, booze on the floor, booze on the cat and booze out the door. We also found BBQ sauce on the ceiling.

We can only attribute this evidence to an attack of the porcine variety; we were obviously invaded by pigs.

Funny, I don’t recall any visitors….

Mom’s computer died. It died a slow death, most notably by the keyboard going out so nothing could be typed. I think she wanted me to have it.

But we hauled off to the teeming metropolis of Crossville to buy her a new computer at the last bastion of high tech, Wallyworld.  That was an adventure unto itself involving a cart full of things such as cat food, kitty litter and single-ply tp. But I scored five bags of Royal Oak.

The gal says people don’t buy charcoal in Tennessee in the winter, they buy firewood. Well, this Florida cracker don’t. Besides, Joey just dumped off a rick of wood.

Back to charcoal, a necessity of life. Well, I discovered  that the Royal Oak factory is just down past Plateau Road., so I figure Royal Oak lump won’t be any problem to obtain over the winter no matter what Wallyworld says.

And that relates to pigs. There is no BBQ tradition in Tennessee east of Memphis. Sure people cook, but as far as I can determine there’s no discernible style; there’s sort of a melange. Like Georgia or Florida BBQ. Local  BBQ is good  but I feel the calling, Lord Halleuah! I think I can get Joey to fix the ugly pit. It’s already tamed into submission but it could be better.

And that brings us back to our invaders. No humans could make that ungodly mess; it had to be a herd of pigs. Had to be.

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