This is an old joke that never got old. The first time I saw it was in the early 1990s. My boss sent it to everyone in the office — followed by the sound of people choking with laughter. He was the best boss ever. It is thirty years later and the computer on which I saved it long since became landfill. I have discovered that funny stays funny even decades later. I looked for and found this on the net. No one can claim it because it has been around longer than my granddaughter has been alive. I’m just glad this story has lived on so more people can laugh. It’s a good one.

These are notes from an chili taster — let’s call him Chuck — who happened to be passing through Texas from the East Coast on his way to San Francisco. How he got entangled in this event? The gods sometimes show a strange sense of humor.

CHUCK: I like chili. Always have. I was passing through Texas and there was a fair going on in this quaint little town. Apparently a judge called in sick at the last minute, so they were a judge short for the chili tasting contest. I don’t know why they dragged me into it, but no one else in town was volunteering. I happened to be standing at the judge’s table asking for directions to the beer garden when the call came. I was assured by the other two judges, both native Texans. that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy. Besides, they said I could have all the free beer I wanted during the tasting. How could I refuse?


JUDGE ONE: A little too heavy on tomato. Amusing kick.

JUDGE TWO: Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

CHUCK: Holy #$%!, what is this stuff? You could remove old paint from your car with it. I needed two beers to put the flames out. Hope that’s the hottest one. These Texans are crazy.


JUDGE ONE: Smokey, with a hint of pork. Slight Jalapeno tang.

JUDGE TWO: Exciting BBQ flavor. Needs more peppers to be taken seriously.

CHUCK: Keep this out of reach of children! I’m not sure what I am supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off a couple of people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had bring in three extra beers when they saw the look on my face.


JUDGE ONE: Excellent firehouse chili! Great kick. Needs more beans.

JUDGE TWO: A beanless chili. A bit salty. Good use of red peppers.

CHUCK: Call the EPA, I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Barmaid pounded me on the back. I think my backbone is in the front of my chest. I’m getting shit-faced from the beer. Where’s the toilet?


JUDGE ONE: Black Bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

JUDGE TWO: Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods. Not much of a chili.

CHUCK: I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That lady is starting to look HOT, sort of like this nuclear-waste I’m eating.


JUDGE ONE: Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

JUDGE TWO: Chili using shredded beef; could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

CHUCK: My ears are ringing, and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had caused brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly from a pitcher onto it. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming.


JUDGE ONE: Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spice and peppers.

JUDGE TWO: The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions and garlic.

CHUCK: My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with sulphureous flames. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Sally, with the beer. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone!


JUDGE ONE: A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

JUDGE TWO: Ho Hum. Tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should note that I am worried about Judge # 3.

CHUCK: You could puta #)$^@#*&! grenade in my mouth, pull the #)$^@#*&! pin, and I wouldn’t feel a d@&$ thing. I’ve lost the sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my X*$(@#^&$ mouth. My pants are full of lava-like shit, to match my X*$(@#^&$ shirt. At least the during the autopsy they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing, it’s too painful. I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just suck it in through the four inch hole in my stomach.


JUDGE ONE: A perfect ending. This is a nice, well-blended chili, safe for all. It’s not too bold, yet spicy enough to declare its existence.

JUDGE TWO: This final entry is a balanced chili, neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 passed out, fell and pulled the chili pot on top of himself. Not sure if he’s going to make it.

CHUCK: – – – – – Mama?- – – (Editor’s Note: Judge # 3 was unable to report).

Categories: #Food, Anecdote, comedy, Cooking, Humor

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6 replies

  1. We had this passed around at work years ago–and it still cracks me up! New guy who came into our department was a native Texan and this was our introduction to him. He was the funniest guy, and this joke became his legacy. Never gets old.


    • I have no idea how old the story is. I don’t think it was new when we got it, but it’s still funny. I reread it (again) last night and found myself laughing again. Funny stays funny and never gets old. I had to do some editing on it to regain some consistency. People had added to it and it had a weird collection of spelling, British and American, as well as a lot of terrible language — but only in some sections. I just did a full edit to make it more more “G” rated.

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