I know I'm at least 8 deep right now, and realized that noise on this thread has turned into a whisper.
Thanks "El Jefe" for regulating.
Gratuitous Chronicle of JayT:
This morning I was dramatically woken out of sleep by Kris-Kross blaring from my stereo downstairs.
Still groggy, I managed to make my way down the stairs of my two story townhouse... totally confused by the situation [I live alone... and there was no reason THIS should have been happening.] I turned my head to the left as I reached the bottom tread, and peaked my head around the corner towards the kitchen.
There was JayT totally "crossed out" while wearing a skull-cap with his arms crossed, and nodding like he knew something was about to go down. His jeans were on backwards and everything!
I then noticed the Dutch Oven behind him on my wooden breakfast table... rockin' with ten coals on the bottom, and twelve red coals on the lid. He was doin' something right, BUT my table was of the wooden persuasion.
Still in a stupor, and knowing that my great grand-father had built that table, I had no option but to roll with a profanity.
"What the F JayT!?!"
JayT, put his hand up in the gesture of "stop... I got this", and proceeded to pull a small weathered leather bag from his pocket.
It had what looked like a chicken drum-stick bone sticking out the top. That's when I noticed all the chicken-feet surrounding the Dutch Oven.
He told me that he had voodooed my table into a not combustible surface by waving the weathered leather bag consisting of a chicken bone, a merkin, and a piece of P2K's dress.
Then he whipped out some card-board and started break-dancing.
True story.