The title of this entry may be a little misleading...King Magazine is not really throwing a cookout. Even if they were, your ashy black ass probably would not be invited anyway...but don't take it personally. It's only because we don't want a bunch of random nondescript people coming through harassing the models and eating all of the barbeque chicken wings.

I brought up the topic of cookouts because it is finally that time of year when every weekend, someone, somewhere, is throwing a cookout. It may be one with plenty of liqour and women in abundance, or it may be just two or three friends, a grill, barbeque sauce, some meat and a six pack. Either way, this time of year is great.

I remember in college, we would grill year-round on the balcony of my apartment. Imagine three grown men on a balcony in winter coats, cooking burgers, and you'll have an idea of just how dedicated I am to the taste of food cooked on the grill. As poetic(and possibly pathetic) as that may be, it does not begin to compare to the greatness that is cookout season. Once the weather breaks, the potential for good times at a cookout is infinite!

People wear less clothes at cookouts, therefore, hormones begin to take ahold of men and women alike. Hookups are inevitable. It's almost as if the smoke from the grill emits pheremones that travel through the air and make people feel connections to each other.

Plus, you can't beat the characters you see at cookouts. The woman that wears the dress so low-cut, that all the other women ostracize her and talk about her behind her back, while all the guys go over to her table, hoping and praying that a titty spills out. The brother who insists on manning the grill, all the while bragging about how nice his barbeque skills are. The chick who gets way too drunk way too early, leaving her friends to shield her drunken vagina from horny opportunists. The backwards beer snob, who, instead of just drinking the Heineken, Sam Adams, or Budweiser in the cooler, insists on bringing a little something for himself with a little more edge to the cookout. Check out this photo from the last cookout my family had:

Steel Reserve In The Cooler

Yep. Someone insisted on bringing one can of 211 Steel Reserve for him or herself. We still haven't figured out who the culprit is, since you never know these kind of things in my family. Still, it was funny to see that sitting there in the cooler by itself.

Enjoy cookout season everyone, and if King Magazine does have a cookout, I'll be sure to post pictures of myself hugged up with Melyssa Ford or some other sweet sexy thang just like her!

 

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