The Meat Locker

Gllen got it up his butt that he wanted to make his own beef jerky. Cue the internet research. Fast forward two hours. Gllen emerges from his office and asks me, "Want to go on an adventure?"(Now, when Gllen asks this kind of question, it is similar to Gozer asking if you are a God...)

Gllen had found the only store in the Twin Cities that carried the highest rated electric smoker. We journeyed to Maple Grove, home of the sacred Lowes.

When we arrived home, Gllen could barely contain his glee. He immediately began unpacking the smoker and stroking each piece that came out of the box. I sat and grinned at him, trying to commit to memory all the things he was saying... Here's a sampling:

"Are you going to be a good smoker and smoke me some meats? Yeah, you are."

"Oh! It's like a cabinet... A cabinet of MEAT."

"It has a latch, Growly! A latch to keep things secure!"

And then, of course, the evil-villain-with-a-plan laughter and brief periods of hyperventilating.

Refreshing... Sort Of.

Yesterday I had a fierce craving for a Sprite. I don't know why - it just sounded so refreshing and crisp and delicious. Of course, I was too lazy to actually go to the gas station to get one, so I resorted to telling Gllen every time he walked through the room, "I want a Sprite!" and he'd walk by without much comment, onward to whatever errand he was on. After I declared for the sixth time "I want a Sprite!" he stopped, looked at me, and stated:

"I'm a Sprite. I'm whimsical, happy and magical."

I grinned and rolled my eyes.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and said "I'm about to perform magic right now and make smoke come out of my mouth."

He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and walked out onto the porch.

3 Hits - NOT Poetry in Motion

Gllen managed to burn at least three things in the course of 30 seconds of smoking.

On our way to a romantic lunch date at 20*21, he decided to smoke a cigarette. Within seconds of it being lit, he dropped it in between the seat and the emergency break. It was a harrowing 15 seconds, and I was freaking out because I know how many gum wrappers and gas station receipts get stuck in that particular crevice. He managed to save the smoldering cigarette, but received a phone call at that same moment. During the course of pulling his hat off (I'm already cursing this hat) and answering the phone, he managed to burn a huge chunk of my passenger side visor AND melt a spot of his jacket - two things that are more than three feet from each other, and BOTH he didn't notice until AFTER the phone call was over. Did I mention that he threw his cigarette out the window seconds after answering his phone?

After all this, I was pretty sure that the car would be in flames by the time we got done with lunch.