Lovin’ Waterford: We Perfect The Irish BBQ


SUNS out, gas-fired barbeque that you bought in Woodies last year out; them’s the rules. We at LW know a thing or two about barbecuing in Ireland; listen up, you douchebags. A real pit master is talking.

One: Okay, forget that low n’ slow shit. You think the Irish weather is predictable enough to start cooking a fucking ham at 8 in the morning? Please. Stick to a jar of hot dogs and maybe a steak, if you like it done rare. We need to cook dis bish in ten minutes before the fuckin’ rapture kicks off.

Twozies, keep an eye out for scumbaggers in your area. These scobie fucks will jump your walls and eat all your ‘dogs. Guys, I’ve fucking seen it. These people are no better than animals. If you see one, hit them with your lacrosse stick, or your ski poles.

For threels, you need to hire some help to come around and wait on you. Face it; if you’re cooking the food, bringing the food to yourself, and eating the food… who do you give out about? Who do you write a furious 1,000 word rant about on your website? Think! You need to hire some young ladies to carry your food from the grill to the table, so you can treat them like shit, ask them out on a date, and then get all cunty when they turn you down.

Next and last, be sure to give yourself a really, really shit review, especially if you (the cook) charges you (the eater) for the food that you (the cook) cooked for your (the eater). You (the cook) should have given you (the eater) the food for free, so you (the eater) could give you (the cook) a hat-tip on your blog in return. Don’t you (the cook) know who you (the eater) is???