Chili With Frank

Pot-o-chiliFolks in the South love their Barbecue,(barbecue is smoked pork and BBQ sauce; NOT a grill that you cook meat on), but we’ve also been known to enjoy a bowl or two of spicy, hot chili.

Which is why when I saw the following, I had to reprint it. I must warn you, it CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE not usually seen at “On The Road With Dave.”

The Chili Cook-off Judge

Notes from an inexperienced chili tester named Frank, who was visiting Texas from the East Coast:

“Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook~off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judges’ table asking for directions to the beer wagon when the call came. I was assured by the other two judges, both native Texans, that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy and, besides, they told me that I could have free beer during the tasting. So, I accepted.”

Here are the scorecards from the event.


JUDGE ONE: “A little too heavy on tomato. Amusing kick.”

JUDGE TWO: “Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.”

FRANK: “Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. It took me two beers to put out the flames in my throat. I hope that’s the worst one. These Texans are crazy!”


JUDGE ONE: “Smokey, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.”

JUDGE TWO: “Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.”

FRANK: “Keep this out of the reach of children! I’m not sure what I’m supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush me more beer when they saw the look on my face.”


JUDGE ONE: “Excellent firehouse chili! Great kick. Needs more beans, though.”

JUDGE TWO: “A beanless chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.”

FRANK: “Call the EPA! I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now — get me more beer before I ignite. Some barmaid pounded me on the back and now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I’m getting shit-faced from all the beer.”


JUDGE ONE: “Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.”

JUDGE TWO: “Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.”

FRANK: “I felt something scraping across my tongue, but I was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-lb bitch is starting to look HOT — just like this nuclear waste I’m eating. Is chili an aphrodisiac?”


JUDGE ONE: “Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, add a considerable kick. Very impressive!”

JUDGE TWO: “Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.”

FRANK: “My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead, and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from a pitcher. I wonder if I am burning my lips off? It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks!”


JUDGE ONE: “Thin, yet bold, vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spice and peppers.”

JUDGE TWO: “The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb!”

FRANK: “My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I shit myself when I farted and I’m worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except Sally. I can’t feel my lips at all anymore. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone!”


JUDGE ONE: “A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.”

JUDGE TWO: “Ho hum, it tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should take note that I am worried about judge number three, he appears to be in a bit of distress as he is now cursing uncontrollably.”

FRANK: “You could put a grenade in my mouth and pull the pin and I wouldn’t feel a damned thing. I’ve completely lost the sight in one eye and the world sounds like it’s made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili that slid unnoticed by me from my mouth where my lips used to be. My pants are full of lava-like shit that match my damned shirt. At least during the autopsy they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing, it’s too painful. I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just suck in through the four inch hole in my stomach. If they want to cremate me after I die, they’ll need an act of Congress to waive the EPA rules and to compensate everyone six counties downwind. Maybe they can bury me in an atomic bomb test site in Nevada.”


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About Dave Robison

Now Appearing in an Extended Engagement! Join Dave Robison as he takes you into his world and his daily life of reviving a stand-up comedy career. Prepare for side trips exploring Public Relations, marketing and business ethics. Enjoy some frequent detours describing his observations on life. Read the exploits of this self-proclaimed Renaissance-man and blooming blogger as you go On The Road With Dave. From Mobile, Alabama comes Dave Robison, a confessed Internet-aholic, middle-aged-married-man, who's generally a nice guy--he just has one or two issues. Stand-Up Comedy by Dave Robison is available for corporate events, college campuses, and nightclubs.
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