Morning has broken...

Dateline: Yardley, Pa.

Dawn has greeted the 57 barbeque teams gathered in the pasture like a teenage mugger with a zip gun. It's getting hot. It's going to get uncomfortable....and because we are near the honey cart, it's going to smell....sometimes bad. Very bad.

The good news is that the night went well. I have roughly half my whisky left. Bob is well, and appears to still be breathing. A good sign. The ice is holding up well. The Missippians next door survived the night. The Senator is Missing in Action. Landi, Catfish and the boys are enroute.

I feel great. Yesterday, I flushed 12 quarts of toxins from my body. They appear to have killed the grass where I was standing. Now, it's time to replace them. We had a great breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, and potatoes. I'm going to have a bloodymary soon.

The Brisket is looking good. Bob is concerned that it may have cooked to quickly. I'm not worried. It looks world class. The Shoulders are getting happy. Ribs are on, and looking good. The yard bird is doing it's thing.

Soon, the heat and humidity will drive many of the competitors mad. I am prepared. Because I'm the only Utilikilted competitor, I have a tremendous advantage. It may turn out that, due to the ungodly heat and the air-conditioned utili-comfort, I may be the sanest person at the contest.

That's a sad state of affairs.

Now, on to bloodymarys!