The Bullsheet December Bullsheet : Page 1

Kansas City Barbeque Society – America’s Barbeque Experts!® DECEMBER 2015 Postmaster: Dated Material. Please deliver by December 10, 2015 The Monthly Publication of the Kansas City Barbeque Society Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house My husband was sleeping and snoring, the louse His family was coming the next day for brunch Then dinner, then supper, then snacks was my hunch My turkey was burnt and my stuffing was dry I saw the flat mousse with a tear in my eye The potatoes were lumpy, the gravy was lumpier My last nerve was shot, I could not have been jumpier What would I serve them, the vast in-law horde? Soon they’d descend in their Hondas and Fords, In giant RV’s and on shiny new Harleys In smoke-belching Pintos, all primered and gnarly I had nothing to feed the kin of my spouse Not a tin, not a can, not a loaf in the house I had not a crumb, not a bite, not a morsel Then I said to myself, “Shape up! Be resourceful!” I sprang to the basement and spied our old freezers There had to be something within for the geezers And children and teens and adults and their babies And one mutt I swear that is riddled with rabies To the ice chests I ran like a mad Usain Bolt Threw open the lids and I saw with a jolt Spare ribs and pork butts and briskets galore Chicken breasts, chicken legs, wings, thighs and more I filled up my arms and I ran to the smoker I started my fire and I laughed like a joker The jig wasn’t up, the bell hadn’t rung The fat lady still had more songs to be sung I worked and I toiled and I stoked and I sweat I tested and tasted. Is it finished? Not yet. The air smelled of smoke and the embers they crackled “I’ll pull this off yet! I can do it!” I cackled As the sun began rising and the birds started cheeping His family arrived with horns honking and beeping “We’re hungry!” they yowled. “We’re starving!” they cried. My in-laws came in with saucers for eyes “What’s that smell?” they all bellowed, “Is it Heaven on earth?” They spied my old smoker with gladness and mirth They piled on the pork butt and laded the lamb They chunked up the chicken and hoarded the ham They ravaged the ribs and chomped up the chops They noshed all the nuggets and slurped up each drop They ate and they ate and then ate some more I wondered how several would fit through the door “You’ve done it again,” they all said with sigh “It really was nothing,” I said waving bye. As I wiped up the wine and cleaned up the cheese I said, “Next year my dear, we’ll go out for Chinese.” By Sammye Phelps Inside WELCOME! KCBS New Members CLASS SCHEDULES Cooking, Judging & Table Captain Classes 35-36 23 UPCOMING EVENTS 28-29 2015 -2016 Events Volume 37, Issue 12 11514 Hickman Mills Drive KCMO 64134 THE BULLSHEET 4 RETAIL LIST Books, Seasonings & More Phone: 800.963.5227 www.kcbs.us

Merry Christmas

Sammye Phelps

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house My husband was sleeping and snoring, the louse His family was coming the next day for brunch Then dinner, then supper, then snacks was my hunch

My turkey was burnt and my stuffing was dry I saw the flat mousse with a tear in my eye The potatoes were lumpy, the gravy was lumpier My last nerve was shot, I could not have been jumpier

What would I serve them, the vast in-law horde? Soon they’d descend in their Hondas and Fords, In giant RV’s and on shiny new Harleys In smoke-belching Pintos, all primered and gnarly

I had nothing to feed the kin of my spouse Not a tin, not a can, not a loaf in the house I had not a crumb, not a bite, not a morsel Then I said to myself, “Shape up! Be resourceful!”

I sprang to the basement and spied our old freezers There had to be something within for the geezers And children and teens and adults and their babies And one mutt I swear that is riddled with rabies

To the ice chests I ran like a mad Usain Bolt Threw open the lids and I saw with a jolt Spare ribs and pork butts and briskets galore Chicken breasts, chicken legs, wings, thighs and more

I filled up my arms and I ran to the smoker I started my fire and I laughed like a joker The jig wasn’t up, the bell hadn’t rung The fat lady still had more songs to be sung

I worked and I toiled and I stoked and I sweat I tested and tasted. Is it finished? Not yet. The air smelled of smoke and the embers they crackled “I’ll pull this off yet! I can do it!” I cackled

As the sun began rising and the birds started cheeping His family arrived with horns honking and beeping “We’re hungry!” they yowled. “We’re starving!” they cried. My in-laws came in with saucers for eyes

“What’s that smell?” they all bellowed, “Is it Heaven on earth?” They spied my old smoker with gladness and mirth They piled on the pork butt and laded the lamb They chunked up the chicken and hoarded the ham

They ravaged the ribs and chomped up the chops They noshed all the nuggets and slurped up each drop They ate and they ate and then ate some more I wondered how several would fit through the door

“You’ve done it again,” they all said with sigh “It really was nothing,” I said waving bye. As I wiped up the wine and cleaned up the cheese I said, “Next year my dear, we’ll go out for Chinese.”

Read the full article at http://mydigitalpublication.com/article/Merry+Christmas/2332278/282252/article.html.

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