SMOKIN' BRISKET RHYME
A tasket, a tisket
Mesquite-smoked Texas brisket
Today I smoked it on the gril
And ate it with a biscuit
I smoked it, I smoked it
I cut the wood and smoked it
Very green Texas mesquite
Lit the fire, and I stoked it
I was watchin' close the temperature
A smokin' habit, that's for sure
I was smoke, smoke, smokin' on the town
A brisket with bark so brown
I ate it, I ate it
Mesquite-smoked Texas brisket
And if I want another bite
I think I'll try a tri-tip
Let 'er rip with pepper zip
I think I'll smoke a tri-tip
Bring it to me right away
I'll eat it with a corn chip
A corn chip, a corn chip
A blue and yellow corn chip
I'd like to eat it right away
But save it for the tri-tip
But should I prefer a soup du jour
Or Dr. Pepper while on tour
I'll be sip, sip, sippin' it on down
A side of fries golden brown
A tri-tip over brisket
In Texas, best not risk it
Golly gee, where can my tri-tip be
It was eaten by a midget
Mesquite-smoked Texas brisket
Today I smoked it on the gril
And ate it with a biscuit
I smoked it, I smoked it
I cut the wood and smoked it
Very green Texas mesquite
Lit the fire, and I stoked it
I was watchin' close the temperature
A smokin' habit, that's for sure
I was smoke, smoke, smokin' on the town
A brisket with bark so brown
I ate it, I ate it
Mesquite-smoked Texas brisket
And if I want another bite
I think I'll try a tri-tip
Let 'er rip with pepper zip
I think I'll smoke a tri-tip
Bring it to me right away
I'll eat it with a corn chip
A corn chip, a corn chip
A blue and yellow corn chip
I'd like to eat it right away
But save it for the tri-tip
But should I prefer a soup du jour
Or Dr. Pepper while on tour
I'll be sip, sip, sippin' it on down
A side of fries golden brown
A tri-tip over brisket
In Texas, best not risk it
Golly gee, where can my tri-tip be
It was eaten by a midget
© 2026 Brian McNeal
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
RANGER STEW
Well, I'm mighty glad you spoke up when you did, Pard
A lot of folks has asked me to tell this here tale
So hold on to yur seats and try to stay in the yard
It ain't no "windy," this here's a full-blown gale
You asked about them little holes in the center of the carrots
You see this ain't no ordinary cuisine, 'cause it's fit for kings
This here is Ranger Stew, and we're privileged to eat it
So it ain't no accident there's a hole in them little orange rings
You see before you kin be included in the Ranger pool
You got to go to what them Eastern dudes calls an academy
Now that there's just a fancy word for highfalutin' school
It's where you learn to do them Ranger things with purpose and finality
First you takes a test-one of them two-letter kind they calls an "I" and a "Q"
Then you show 'em how much you know 'bout ridn' on back of a hoss
You gots to pass 'em all - ever one - like you already knew
Then, if yur the cream of the crop, you goes before the boss
He gives you all them firearms proficiency tests with rapid fire
You shoots at a bulls-eye or two and movin' badmen cut-outs by the score
They give all the same as the FBI, the CIA and all they required
And if you passes them all, and you thinks yur done, well, they give you one more
Now it ain't like you ain't good, but you got to be some bettern' the rest
You got to take all they can give and never lose your grip
'Cause a Ranger must be able to stack up bettern' the best
Sharpshooters, and deadeyes - phooey! Rangers shoot from the hip
The Boss man, he takes a little ol' carrot like this, and he flips it high in the air
It tosses end for end like a carnival ride when you can't even look
Then you just put a bullet clean through that carrot from end to end if you dare
And Pard, if you do, why you're just about good enough to be this outfit's cook
Well, I'm mighty glad you spoke up when you did, Pard
A lot of folks has asked me to tell this here tale
So hold on to yur seats and try to stay in the yard
It ain't no "windy," this here's a full-blown gale
You asked about them little holes in the center of the carrots
You see this ain't no ordinary cuisine, 'cause it's fit for kings
This here is Ranger Stew, and we're privileged to eat it
So it ain't no accident there's a hole in them little orange rings
You see before you kin be included in the Ranger pool
You got to go to what them Eastern dudes calls an academy
Now that there's just a fancy word for highfalutin' school
It's where you learn to do them Ranger things with purpose and finality
First you takes a test-one of them two-letter kind they calls an "I" and a "Q"
Then you show 'em how much you know 'bout ridn' on back of a hoss
You gots to pass 'em all - ever one - like you already knew
Then, if yur the cream of the crop, you goes before the boss
He gives you all them firearms proficiency tests with rapid fire
You shoots at a bulls-eye or two and movin' badmen cut-outs by the score
They give all the same as the FBI, the CIA and all they required
And if you passes them all, and you thinks yur done, well, they give you one more
Now it ain't like you ain't good, but you got to be some bettern' the rest
You got to take all they can give and never lose your grip
'Cause a Ranger must be able to stack up bettern' the best
Sharpshooters, and deadeyes - phooey! Rangers shoot from the hip
The Boss man, he takes a little ol' carrot like this, and he flips it high in the air
It tosses end for end like a carnival ride when you can't even look
Then you just put a bullet clean through that carrot from end to end if you dare
And Pard, if you do, why you're just about good enough to be this outfit's cook
© 2026 Brian McNeal
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
FEEDIN' THE CREW
A Cobbler, a Crumble, or a Crisp
A Betty, A Buckle, or Boy Bait
Boy howdy when time for Pandowdy
And Cooky was never late.
A Gunsel, or a Grunt after a meal
Even Cooky's famous Slump
A chuckwagon delight
Keeps everyone from becoming a grump
Prairie strawberries or range-jerked beef
Sage hens and rattlesnake stew
Cattledrive staples for noon and night
Cooky's recipe for a happy crew
Arbuckles coffee every morning
And maybe a biscuit with prickly pear jam
Irish oatmeal that Cooky brewed all night
Or flapjacks with molasses and wild yams
Cattledrive menus were cooky's delight
Once in a while a wild hog would give us some smoked ham
Cattle drovers eatin' high on the hog when finances is tight.
None went hungry 'cause Cooky never fed us Spam
A Cobbler, a Crumble, or a Crisp
A Betty, A Buckle, or Boy Bait
Boy howdy when time for Pandowdy
And Cooky was never late.
A Gunsel, or a Grunt after a meal
Even Cooky's famous Slump
A chuckwagon delight
Keeps everyone from becoming a grump
Prairie strawberries or range-jerked beef
Sage hens and rattlesnake stew
Cattledrive staples for noon and night
Cooky's recipe for a happy crew
Arbuckles coffee every morning
And maybe a biscuit with prickly pear jam
Irish oatmeal that Cooky brewed all night
Or flapjacks with molasses and wild yams
Cattledrive menus were cooky's delight
Once in a while a wild hog would give us some smoked ham
Cattle drovers eatin' high on the hog when finances is tight.
None went hungry 'cause Cooky never fed us Spam
© 2026 Brian McNeal
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
