Bugs, Bruises, and Big Bob.

Apparently, screened windows are for yankee faggots.

The weather is inordinately cool today in San Antonio. Currently 70 degrees. It's a perfect day to open every window in the house and get a good breeze running through. Some fresh air. But there's something about Southern Texas not everyone may know: the bugs are big--and great enough in number to fill out their own census forms. Flies cause bruises.

So yes. No screens. There is not a single screen on a window in this house. Birds could just hop right in. A curious squirrel perhaps. It seems bizarre to me.

Okay, nothing else to say really.

Okay, one thing. If you're ever in the San Antonio area, Check out Big Bob's Burgers on Harry Wurzbach Rd. It's a fascinating place. Now, I have been to Radio Shack, but it's not really a shack. More of a traditional store. Recently, in fact, they've taken to shortening the title to The Shack, as if it were some local hang out for the teens. I'm not even sure they sell radios anymore. Who buys radios? Anyway, I attribute Radio Shack's lack of ability to expand in size from shack to, say, a Circuit City, to its poor name choice. But I am way off point.

Yes, there are places with shack in the name, but they rarely resemble shacks. Joe's Crab Shack is simply a large restaurant. Shack's don't have tablecloths.

But Big Bob's Burgers does not have shack in it's name, and it is the argument of this writer that such a label would never be more appropriate. Big Bob's Burger Shack also has a bit of a ring to it.

The roof of this "restaurant is made of corrugated steel. It is lit almost entirely by christmas lights wrapped around the support beams holding up said roof. The walls used to be white, but a thick layer of grease and dirt give the atmosphere a certain indefinable charm. You order your food in an area similar to a small town pawn shop, but instead of old golf clubs, wedding dresses, and the occasional live grenade, behind the glass is a filthy kitchen with filthy people cooking filthy food.

But the food. Good gravedigging christ, the food is something else. Fries are arguably the best ever. The burgers are large and have a confidence to them that suggests, "I could give a shit if you like me. I know I'm the shit." And that's the ultimate feeling one is left with after dining with Big Bob. There is so little about the place to impress the customer. There is aquite a bit that would frighten a customer. And that's the sort of attitude I enjoy in my burgers.

I can imagine a super low budget commercial. Paying by the second, Big Bob would have a 5 second commercial. It would be him, standing in front of the shack, wearing a loose, stained t-shirt that he got in the mail from Marlboro, and he would simply say: "Big Bob's Burger Shack. Parsley is for queers."