This post is way OT on the whole bike thing, but ties in nicely with saying so long, which seems to be the theme of this week.
A while back, I posted about my disappointment with our new GF grill. Despite my initial reaction, my loyalty to George ran deeper than I would ever have guessed and I went to great lengths to make things work out. But the short cord was only the tip of the iceberg. Turns out the new grill cooked at a temperature slightly less than the surface of the sun. Me and my buddy George turned some expensive meat into leather.
As of tonight, I am so done with amateur hour. Respectable machinery is in the house:
So George, while you and your spoiled brats are spending your millions, I want you to know that I wrapped your junky grill up in some beautiful Christmas paper so that I can give it to someone I don't like next holiday season and I am about to have the best pork chop of my life that I just cooked on my new Cuisinart, which I will cherish forever, and if anyone ever asks me about the best way to cook meat, well, you pretty much know what I will say. Later, old man.