Doughy, white buns

Tomorrow, Friday, Plotnik and Ducknik will be winging their way on yet another airplane, flying this time to the SouthEast of our country, to enjoy the company of family while downing many bbq sandwiches. Plotnik will remember he is in a red state surrounded by red states, and refrain from political commentary.

Not that politics really matters when downing bbq sandwiches. In fact, there could be a very good case made that red states make the best bbq sandwiches, in the same way blue states produce primo vino. Red states have the best sweet corn. Blue states make better movies. We need each other.

Of course, there is no bread worth eating in the red states, which is why the bbq always comes on doughy, white buns. But, hey. The President has doughy, white buns. So do all the red state governors. Haley Barbour's buns...rgggghh, not an appetizing thought. One thing you can say about Arnold. His buns may be white, but they're sure as hell not doughy.

Ducknik has packed a pound of French Roast, and Plotnik has made up a batch of fresh granola. They're ready for anything, but particularly ready for three or four bbq sandwiches the second they step off the plane.