:eek:
That’s dense alright!
Perhaps someone who is having a picknic and want to actually eat the roasted pig before midnight?
Spit cooking a pig can take 10-12 hours … so they do have to start it at 6 am to eat at a resonable picknic time.
Sure they weren’t celebrating the (Norwegian) custom of Jonsok? (The birth of Johannes the Baptist) Jonsok – Wikipedia (Article in Norwegian, but the picture should illustrate the typical norwegian way of celebrating)
Usually fire up my smoker around 8:00 - 9:00 PM, and let it go all night. The initial flame-up can be a little disconcerting to the uninitiated. But mine smells goooooooood! Especially when I have cherry or hickory to burn in it. I try to share a little of the final product with the neighbors whenever possible to compensate them for putting of with the smoke.
Count your blessings it’s just a dickbag with a BBQ.
Every spring the Peckerwoods to the west and the Nouveau Riche to the north burn every square inch of their fields, waking the noxious weeds nice and early. If we mistakenly leave our windows open it looks and smells like fucking Pinatubo blew through our house.
I remember that when I lived in Fun Junction. That whole place smells like burnt ass in the springtime.
I have a neighbor that burns trash. It seems like it’s every Sunday morning around 7 and it angles right into my swamp cooler and fills my tiny house with smokey vapory air. And I still freak out every time thinking that the fire has escaped the hills and is even now ravaging the valley floor.
Oh no, the AV’s got to be dry as tinder. I’d be soaking my roof every morning. 
Ugh. The only thing worse than smoky air is swampy, smoky air.
Fortunately the fires don’t get down here too often, and the super-planned grid-style street system provides a pretty good break. I’m close enough to the hills that it’s an anxiety, but I mostly worry about the asshole neighbor and his flaming trash barrel. And the meth labs. Mostly those.
C’mon, it’s just a bathtub full of kerosene. Where’s your sense of adventure?
Once I was invited to a barbecue. I didn’t like the couple that invited me very much, but they lived nearby, so I went out of neighborly obligation. After arriving, I was given a plate of shish kabobs. So, while chatting amicably, I took a small bite. Whoa. I don’t know how much lighter fluid he used (a lot), but I know he didn’t let it burn off at all. It tasted like the meat had been marinated in it. My whole mouth went numb, and my eyes began to water. I tried to be discreet, but I had to spit it out into a napkin.
Then I went to get a drink, to rinse my mouth of the awfulness. They had “sangria”, which, as it turned out, was a bottle of cheap vodka, with a smidge of grape kool-aid, and some marchino cherries floating in it. Horrid swill. So, I left.
Worst barbecue ever.
No hyperbole I’m afraid. I live down the street from a synogogue, and in the past year or so there have been two or three Molotovs tossed at jewish schools and community centres in Montreal.
I wouldn’t have taken any meat off their grill. I’ve been to smoker parties, and the manner in which these people were cooking bore no resemblance to anything that could be called quality cooking.
Proper Answer: Fire Extinguisher.
I would have thought a bedroom window that wouldn’t close would be all the reason you needed.
You’ve got that right.
You might want to cut back on the Mexican food.