You know, I should take up hunting. That would be the apex of masculinity, Killing something, and preparing it for your family. Stalking the wild meal, climbing silently through the thick, tangled, matted underbrush looking for the opportunity to take down the perfectly marbled beef brisket. Man, that would be the pinnacle.
Poor, foolish, unsuspecting tribe of wild baby back ribs would scatter as I come crashing mightily out of the forest, armed with nothing but Pampered Chef Grilling Tongs, (dishwasher safe with a patented locking mechanism) and a dry rub made of paprika, chili powder, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a touch of dried cayenne.
I would be the king of the jungle, as I stalk the wild rib eye. You know, we should be careful, there are a lot of snakes out in the bush. Big snakes looking to make a name for themselves by bagging a chef.

Maybe I will just go to the store, Or better yet send my wife to the store, that place is like a class reunion for the hospital for the criminally insane. I will make sure the grill is ready for cooking.
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