The Story of The Goat BBQ of Tennessee

Last week, Bad Guy Becky went to Tennessee to visit our friend who was there for work. They ate at Sugar’s Ribs. A bbq rib joint that also sells goats.

Here is the true story of Sugar’s Ribs, as told by Becky.

“L and I went to a place called “Sugar’s Ribs” on the side of a mountain in Tennessee because the people at the hotel’s desk recommended it when I asked for good local southern food that was not a cheesy chain restaurant.  MISTAKE. So we go to SUGARS and I get ribs and L gets a salad.  So I start eating my “ribs” and drinking my draft Miller Light.

All of a sudden L points out the fact that there are a bunch of construction paper arrows pointing to the back door.  Dear jesus.   There are also lots of pictures of goats in frames near the door.  Then I look at the door and it says “GOATS.”  Then a little kid in the place starts talking about how the goat licked her face…. and then she proceeds to eat some fucking ribs.   At this point it’s just too late.  L thinks the ribs are actually made of goat.  I start to feel nauseous and my back hurts like SERIOUSLY bad. I think it was my kidneys being subjected to the toxin.  L says “you don’t have to eat that…lets get out of here”.   Yes.  We walk outside into the parking lot and instantly smell fresh vomit.  Well fuck me in the ass … at this point I knew I would get sick and maybe die.   I wasn’t completely dead yet so I said “lets go get some ice cream..maybe it’ll make me feel better”.

(read more about barfing after the break…)

The closest place I found with ice cream was McDonald’s so we pull through the drive thru to try and order some Mcflurries… “Can I get two oreo mcflurries” … man at drive thru :” No.” The flurry machine is broken.   Ok, fuck you very much, bye. We found a Sonic 10 mins later and that was delightful. Then I said, “We have to go back now, I’m going to barf.”

I walked into her hotel suite and went right to the bathroom and puked.  This was a “lucky you were near a toilet because you would’ve puked on the floor” kind of puke.  I then proceeded to put sweatpants on and we watched “The Notebook” from the comfort of her queen sized bed like an old gay couple and I had to get up every 20 minutes ALL FUCKING NIGHT to puke.  I was so bad I couldn’t even sip water without barfing.

In the morning  I drove back to Atlanta with a plastic bag on my lap and went to sleep as soon as I got here.  I only threw up once yesterday and have been on and off nauseous since then but things are looking up….I tried to call the restaraunt but no one has answered. I really think they had a serious outbreak and will be calling from work tomorrow and possibly contacting their state health dept.  FUCK. We should have went to Famous Daves.”

So, when you inspect the website, you will find that they actually sell goats. They do not serve goat meat, but they just have fucking goats wandering about licking kids faces and maybe licking raw meat that Becky ate. Now,  I happen to think goat meat, when prepared fancily, is nice. But to have a goat prostitution ring next door to your established restaurant? EW. If you ask Us Bad Guys, Sugars owes Becky some ribs, a Miller light, ice cream (things she barfed) and a copy of The Notebook (because she missed it all, barfing).