To commemorate the holiday I totally did not remember was going on - as an unemployable person, things like holidays and weekends lose all meaning - I had a little "death of summer" cookout. I consider it a last hurrah for a grill that's done all it could for us.
If this grill was a dog, it would be put down. At this point, it's just a mess. The igniter is busted, so we have to use matches. The gas thingy is stuck open, so we have to shut off the propane at the tank.) The handle broke off, so it has to be opened and closed with an open mitt. The grill area is rusted from my idiot brother leaving it outside in the elements for some goddamn reason. It's old. It's busted. It barely works. It's dead, Jim.
We're going to replace it soon, once the end-of-season sales kick in, and I look forward to that day. This is a house that does get its grill on when the option is available. Sure, now that grilling has become a stupid Rube Goldberg-ish endeavor, we've cut down - but we're just waiting for the new hotness! (Of course, said idiot brother can't be allowed near it. He is why we can't have nice things.)