If you have ever had a conversation with any of my ex wives or believe half the schit I have written, then you are well aware of my eventual eternal position in the afterlife. Assuming the former to be false, then over my next four blogs, you should be able to draw a pretty good conclusion.
Each of my Squids (“children”) has his or her own unique talents and abilities. But the one commonality amongst them all is their command of the English language. Much like their father, I attribute most of this to early childhood experiences. If memory serves me correctly and often times it does not, somewhere around age 6 or 7, I was fishing with my Papaw on the Grand River. The fishing was slow and the afternoon sun was bearing down, “Boy, go fetch me a beer out of the cooler and while you are at it, why don’t you grab one for yourself.” With a schit eating grin on my face and thoughts of finally becoming a man, I gladly oblige. Wanting to savor every moment, I decided to take my time. First sip, this tastes like ass, but surely it is going to get better. I will check my bait and then try another. Reel, reel, reel, snag. Papaw, I think I got one. “You ain’t got one, you just got hung up. Jerk, jerk, jerk, nothing. Jerk, jerk, jerk, snap…… “GD Son, you could f__k up a wet dream. Now give me that damn fishin pole and the beer I gave you. You are obviously too damn young this schit”…….Damn my luck.
Fortunately for my Squids, they have had similar childhood experiences; however, much to the disdain of Uno, most of them come at the hands of my involvement. I recall the summer of 2002, when Squid Dos was about 4……
Like most summers in Texas, ‘02 was a bit oppressive and the only way to escape the heat was an afternoon dip in the pool. Arriving home from work one evening, Squid Dos greeted me with much excitement. ”Daddy, daddy, can we go to the pool? Please, please, I really want to go”. Not needing much of a reason to get away from Uno and having the opportunity to enjoy a few pops, I gladly agreed. “Sure son, just let me go change into my swimsuit”. About to piss down his leg, he shouts joy, “Hurry up let’s go, let’s go”. “I am hurrying as fast as I can”. Fully suited and “coolered” up, I looked at him and said, “Ok, I’m ready. Do you have our towels?” To which he looks at me in all his glory and says “No. Where are the f__ing towels”. 2002 Father of the Year. I am so proud……..
8 oz filet, thinly sliced
8 oz smoked turkey, thinly sliced
4 slices provolone
1 T The Ranch
4 Mexican baguettes (“bolillos”) *
1 oz yellow mustard
4 dill pickle, sliced
Preheat grill to 450 degrees. Season filet with The Ranch seasoning and cook on grill until medium-rare (approximately 5 to 7 minutes per side). Once cooked, set meat on platter and allow the meat to rest for 5 to 10 minutes before slicing.
To assemble, slice bolillos lengthwise. On bottom half of each loaf on a baking sheet and then place 2 oz of filet, 2 oz of smoked turkey and top with cheese. Put baking sheet under broiler just long enough to melt cheese. Remove from oven and top with pickle and mustard. Server with side of black beans and rice.
* Bolillos is a Mexican baguette and can be found at Mexican grocery stores. A good substitution is a French baguette cut into 6 inch portions.
Twisted Epilogue: I can’t take credit for this creation. Jeffe served this to Siete and I one drunken evening…..and if memory serves me correctly, which it rarely does, that evening I actually screwed up a wet dream….Papaw would be so proud!