neighbor fired up his new rotisserie grill and now he's basted and smug, meanwhile i'm standing over charcoal like it owes me money because it does, it owes me flavor a machine with a motor will never understand. rotisserie's just a merry-go-round for chicken, built for guys who peaked buying the extended warranty. i will die a crusty briquette loyalist before i let electricity cook my dinner, same energy as these primetime records everyone's creaming over, ooh look a good record against a schedule softer than the meat spinning on that thing. earned nothing, both of you. log off happy