Sorry folks. The weather has been hit or miss. My finances have been hit or miss. My mood has been hit or miss. My symptoms have been hit or miss.
All in all, it has been a roller coaster week and I have had to focus my energies elsewhere. In case you didn't know, I have about 2 - 4 hours worth of energy a day. Usually that comes to me in the morning. This week I have helped a friend out by babysitting her six month old for a few hours. The kid sleeps as much as I do so it worked out pretty well. My job sent me an application for Long Term Disability. I spent a few hours filling that out. I pouted a bit and cried on the phone to my mom which ate up a few more hours. Sadly, you, my dear peeps, have been neglected. I have story ideas and keep sitting down to start posting, but I get overwhelmed at the idea of writing out a story. I start to write a bunch of nonsense, but when I am not in a whimsical mood, they don't really come out well.
It is the same in real life. I have a very dry, sarcastic wit. When I am full of life and energy, I can pull it off because I am careful to watch everyone's responses and make sure they are getting that I am telling a joke. When I am tired or moody, I just piss people off and hurt their feelings. I forget to smile and they think I am just being mean. I don't know why. I can't remember a time in my adulthood when I have actually made fun of someone else. It goes against my nature to build people up. Why people would ever think I would say something intentionally degrading is beyond me.
Ah well, the point is I have learned my lesson. Which means you get stories or nothing at all! (I write as I totally negate the statement with this entire post.) I did make mini apple pies this week. I have been craving them, but I make them from scratch. I finally decided to try making the crust in my food processor. I figured it didn't matter if it turned out too badly, it would still be pie. And I like pie! As it works out, minus the cooking time, I made a pie in 15 minutes. This is not good. It cannot be that easy for me to make pie! And it gets worse.
After I devoured the first one I made, I was still craving more. This time the crust was already made. So, I made another one in about 10 minutes and ate it too. I cannot have that kind of temptation sitting around! Unfortunately in my pie craving madness, I bought a 5 lb bag of Granny Smith apples. Each pie takes one apple. I have six apples left. Plus, I still have crust in the refrigerator! Hmmm, I think I have to go now. To make pie. Because pie is 4th on my list of true loves after Goldie, Bacon and Batman. I wonder what Bacon Pot Pie would taste like?
Yeah, I gotta go. Now.
Showing posts with label Bacon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bacon. Show all posts
Friday, April 30, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Silver Tongued Devil
Today is Brother R's birthday. I don't have a lot of money these days, so I thought I would use this blog to pay tribute to him. When I first started writing this blog, I made him read it so that I could get his approval before circulating it among the masses. He loves to write. He even published his own magazine.
This magazine, The Trucktacular, was a huge success. He only stopped doing it because it became too much work to do on his own. It was pretty much a blog in paper form. He filled it with stories about people he knew. He had a question and answer section with his dwarf character from World of Warcraft whose answer to everything included use of an axe. There were interviews with random people in his life including his 7 year old daughter. There was a recount of his weekly basketball game that was retold in a way that even I, a total sportsophobe, looked forward to reading. The best was a monthly in depth account of a local gang war titled, "The Corporation Vs. The Working Man." He allowed us a rare insight into the gritty rivalry that had pitted his box store warehouse co-workers against his brother and wife's office coworkers. There were beat downs, kidnappings and turf invasions as each gang tried to establish their superiority. There are not many published authors who can make me laugh as hard as I did reading those accounts.
I just can't sit here and describe his writing. I am going to reprint my favorite episode for the rest of you. Please note that his style is to use everyone's real names as well as nicknames making the stories are more personal. I do the opposite in my blog so I will just use nicknames wherever possible and initials when they are not. Mostly because I haven't even met some of these people and don't particularly want to get sued. Without further ado today's surprise (as much to him as anyone else) guest writer Brother R.
The Corporation Vs. The Working Man
Tales of a Secret War
Episode 2 (In Episode 1, The Lockbox Corporation had gone to Bullseye Mart and was attacked with various products by The Truckabee gang.)
Disclaimer: Corporation names have been changed to protect the innocent.
The Truckabees knew that they had started an all out war with The Lockbox Corporation and knew they were always going to be in danger. The day would come where a bloody unneeded battle would take place and people would die. Cobra could not let this happen. He knew that if he went alone to the Lockbox Corporation headquarters he might be able to reach some kind of truce with his brother. He also thought that since it was during business hours it would be less likely to get a beat down.
As he waited in the lobby for MF to come down, he was noticeably nervous. Ding. The elevator doors opened and the younger F brother stood inside. But he was not alone. His "friend" MC was with him along with a man called EB. EB was a man that had a past with Cobra. Once friends, they turned into bitter enemies over a questionable homerun call at a whiffle ball tournament. EB swore it cleared the fence and was in fair territory while Cobra thought it was the opposite. Needless to say this was an explosive relationship.
"I thought maybe we could reach a truce, so that none of your people would have to miss any work time." Cobra spoke with an arrogant smile.
"How bout this?" EB leaped across the room and slapped a figure four leg lock on him instead. MF ran over and dropped an elbow right on top of his head for good measure. Cobra looked up at the receptionist, hoping that she was on the phone with the police so that a little justice might prevail. He was quite shocked to see her laughing and pointing as the Lockbox employees imposed their will on him. Finally, MC ran over and said that they should stop before they went too far. Then he laughed, kicked Cobra in his rock hard abs and slapped him in his face.
"You guys wanna throw soup cans at people?" Matt asked as he opened a thermos and began to dump it out on a now semi-conscious Cobra. "Well, here is some soup. And it's split pea. HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
I guess it was clear in the mind of Cobra that there was going to be no truce. This thing had already become more explosive than even he had thought. As he crawled out the doors of the enormous office building, he had but one thing on his mind. Revenge!
Cobra struggled to get to his car, but finally did make it. He grabbed out his cell, and placed a call to his colleague, The Incredible Bulk. The Bulk couldn't believe his ears. A three on one beat down? That was more Truckabee style than anything. "Don't worry chief, I got the payback taken care of."
"Hello," Bulk said on one end of the phone. "Yeah, we have a bit of a situation. Yeah, they got cobra. Three on one. I know, that's more our style. OK I am on my way to pick you up."
4:55 PM Lockbox corporation Headquarters
Work was over for MF and he was on his way out of the building headed to his car. It was dark now and there was a weird feeling in the air. Unfortunately for MF he didn't park in the parking garage. No, it was too full, so he parked down the road. This had the mark of trouble written all over it.
"Hello MF." A dark and mysterious voice came out of the bushes. "I hear you like to fight unfair wars against solid citizens of this country. Well I am here to even the score up."
A tasty guitar riff began to play. The Elbow jumped out of the bushes with guitar in tow. Behind him, tripping while exiting the bushes was TruckaD. He had some hot bacon in his hand. "These odds look a little bit better." Cobra was speaking with The Bulk at his side.
"You think I didn't know you Truckalosers would be out here?" MF snapped his fingers. MC and EB jumped out from behind the bushes on the other side of the street. (Man, there are a lot of bushes in Salem.) Then he whistled and two women jumped out of the backseat of MF's car. It was Cobra's wife, EF and her BFFL SM.
The line in the sand was drawn and each group was trying to stare a hole right through the other. Just then The Elbow started a solo on his sweet musical instrument of choice. The Truckabees seemed almost possessed now. Their eyes were red and they didn't look like themselves. TruckaD threw his hot greasy bacon and hit MC right in the face. "My eyes!" MC screamed. "You got bacon grease in my eyes."
EB was now looking right at The Elbow and started playing air guitar to some KISS song he had in his head. The Elbow stopped to check out how frickin' sweet EB's moves were. That was all the chance EF and SM needed. EF pulled The Elbow's hair and SM tried to scratch out his eyeballs.
Seeing his opportunity Cobra grabbed MF and held him as The Bulk was about to take a vicious swing. But then a voice was heard by a man passing by. "Hey guys, what you up to?"
It was DM, SM's husband. "Yes!" Both SM and Cobra yelled at the same time. "What do you mean yes?" SM asked. "He is my husband and he will fight on our side."
"Your crazy." Cobra told the delusional Mrs. M. "He is my best friend and a former Bullseye Mart employee, he is obviously going to fight on our side."
"Well?" SM asked as she peered into his soul. "You have to decide."
"Yeah buddy," Cobra pleaded. "You are going to have to pick a side."
THE END
(OK, I will at least resolve the major cliff hanger with the first bit of Episode 3, "Danny's Decision" since none of you probably have access. As for the battle, no one ever really wins a fight.)
Episode 3
DM was deemed The Franchise by Cobra back in the late nineties because of the promise he showed right from the beginning. These two kids became the best of friends right from day one. They spent countless hours playing PlayStation and running plays down on the Courthouse basketball floor. But his life was now with his wife, SM. How could friendship compete with love? I mean sure Cobra and The Franchise just stood there between the proverbial rock and a hard place. What could he do? He had to break someone's heart. So he did the only logical thing. He turned and ran as fast as he could and he didn't stop until he got home. And even then he went straight into his bedroom and hid under the bed.
NOW THE END
So, that is my brother. I am going to send him this link for his birthday. Please take some time to make a comment below to wish him a Happy Birthday and tell him how awesome you think he is.
I love you bro!
This magazine, The Trucktacular, was a huge success. He only stopped doing it because it became too much work to do on his own. It was pretty much a blog in paper form. He filled it with stories about people he knew. He had a question and answer section with his dwarf character from World of Warcraft whose answer to everything included use of an axe. There were interviews with random people in his life including his 7 year old daughter. There was a recount of his weekly basketball game that was retold in a way that even I, a total sportsophobe, looked forward to reading. The best was a monthly in depth account of a local gang war titled, "The Corporation Vs. The Working Man." He allowed us a rare insight into the gritty rivalry that had pitted his box store warehouse co-workers against his brother and wife's office coworkers. There were beat downs, kidnappings and turf invasions as each gang tried to establish their superiority. There are not many published authors who can make me laugh as hard as I did reading those accounts.
I just can't sit here and describe his writing. I am going to reprint my favorite episode for the rest of you. Please note that his style is to use everyone's real names as well as nicknames making the stories are more personal. I do the opposite in my blog so I will just use nicknames wherever possible and initials when they are not. Mostly because I haven't even met some of these people and don't particularly want to get sued. Without further ado today's surprise (as much to him as anyone else) guest writer Brother R.
The Corporation Vs. The Working Man
Tales of a Secret War
Episode 2 (In Episode 1, The Lockbox Corporation had gone to Bullseye Mart and was attacked with various products by The Truckabee gang.)
Disclaimer: Corporation names have been changed to protect the innocent.
The Truckabees knew that they had started an all out war with The Lockbox Corporation and knew they were always going to be in danger. The day would come where a bloody unneeded battle would take place and people would die. Cobra could not let this happen. He knew that if he went alone to the Lockbox Corporation headquarters he might be able to reach some kind of truce with his brother. He also thought that since it was during business hours it would be less likely to get a beat down.
As he waited in the lobby for MF to come down, he was noticeably nervous. Ding. The elevator doors opened and the younger F brother stood inside. But he was not alone. His "friend" MC was with him along with a man called EB. EB was a man that had a past with Cobra. Once friends, they turned into bitter enemies over a questionable homerun call at a whiffle ball tournament. EB swore it cleared the fence and was in fair territory while Cobra thought it was the opposite. Needless to say this was an explosive relationship.
"I thought maybe we could reach a truce, so that none of your people would have to miss any work time." Cobra spoke with an arrogant smile.
"How bout this?" EB leaped across the room and slapped a figure four leg lock on him instead. MF ran over and dropped an elbow right on top of his head for good measure. Cobra looked up at the receptionist, hoping that she was on the phone with the police so that a little justice might prevail. He was quite shocked to see her laughing and pointing as the Lockbox employees imposed their will on him. Finally, MC ran over and said that they should stop before they went too far. Then he laughed, kicked Cobra in his rock hard abs and slapped him in his face.
"You guys wanna throw soup cans at people?" Matt asked as he opened a thermos and began to dump it out on a now semi-conscious Cobra. "Well, here is some soup. And it's split pea. HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
I guess it was clear in the mind of Cobra that there was going to be no truce. This thing had already become more explosive than even he had thought. As he crawled out the doors of the enormous office building, he had but one thing on his mind. Revenge!
Cobra struggled to get to his car, but finally did make it. He grabbed out his cell, and placed a call to his colleague, The Incredible Bulk. The Bulk couldn't believe his ears. A three on one beat down? That was more Truckabee style than anything. "Don't worry chief, I got the payback taken care of."
"Hello," Bulk said on one end of the phone. "Yeah, we have a bit of a situation. Yeah, they got cobra. Three on one. I know, that's more our style. OK I am on my way to pick you up."
4:55 PM Lockbox corporation Headquarters
Work was over for MF and he was on his way out of the building headed to his car. It was dark now and there was a weird feeling in the air. Unfortunately for MF he didn't park in the parking garage. No, it was too full, so he parked down the road. This had the mark of trouble written all over it.
"Hello MF." A dark and mysterious voice came out of the bushes. "I hear you like to fight unfair wars against solid citizens of this country. Well I am here to even the score up."
A tasty guitar riff began to play. The Elbow jumped out of the bushes with guitar in tow. Behind him, tripping while exiting the bushes was TruckaD. He had some hot bacon in his hand. "These odds look a little bit better." Cobra was speaking with The Bulk at his side.
"You think I didn't know you Truckalosers would be out here?" MF snapped his fingers. MC and EB jumped out from behind the bushes on the other side of the street. (Man, there are a lot of bushes in Salem.) Then he whistled and two women jumped out of the backseat of MF's car. It was Cobra's wife, EF and her BFFL SM.
The line in the sand was drawn and each group was trying to stare a hole right through the other. Just then The Elbow started a solo on his sweet musical instrument of choice. The Truckabees seemed almost possessed now. Their eyes were red and they didn't look like themselves. TruckaD threw his hot greasy bacon and hit MC right in the face. "My eyes!" MC screamed. "You got bacon grease in my eyes."
EB was now looking right at The Elbow and started playing air guitar to some KISS song he had in his head. The Elbow stopped to check out how frickin' sweet EB's moves were. That was all the chance EF and SM needed. EF pulled The Elbow's hair and SM tried to scratch out his eyeballs.
Seeing his opportunity Cobra grabbed MF and held him as The Bulk was about to take a vicious swing. But then a voice was heard by a man passing by. "Hey guys, what you up to?"
It was DM, SM's husband. "Yes!" Both SM and Cobra yelled at the same time. "What do you mean yes?" SM asked. "He is my husband and he will fight on our side."
"Your crazy." Cobra told the delusional Mrs. M. "He is my best friend and a former Bullseye Mart employee, he is obviously going to fight on our side."
"Well?" SM asked as she peered into his soul. "You have to decide."
"Yeah buddy," Cobra pleaded. "You are going to have to pick a side."
THE END
(OK, I will at least resolve the major cliff hanger with the first bit of Episode 3, "Danny's Decision" since none of you probably have access. As for the battle, no one ever really wins a fight.)
Episode 3
DM was deemed The Franchise by Cobra back in the late nineties because of the promise he showed right from the beginning. These two kids became the best of friends right from day one. They spent countless hours playing PlayStation and running plays down on the Courthouse basketball floor. But his life was now with his wife, SM. How could friendship compete with love? I mean sure Cobra and The Franchise just stood there between the proverbial rock and a hard place. What could he do? He had to break someone's heart. So he did the only logical thing. He turned and ran as fast as he could and he didn't stop until he got home. And even then he went straight into his bedroom and hid under the bed.
NOW THE END
So, that is my brother. I am going to send him this link for his birthday. Please take some time to make a comment below to wish him a Happy Birthday and tell him how awesome you think he is.
I love you bro!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Happy Valentine's Day
I just want to dedicate this post to the three loves of my life today.
Goldie, Bacon and Batman.
My life would be unbearable without you.
Goldie shows me happiness by reminding me that I choose how I to react to life is my choice.
Bacon gives me joy. Meat candy ya'll, what is more joyful than that?
Batman reminds me of peace. I can't change the world, I just have to do whatever right thing I can. And sometimes, that means kicking a little ass.
And NO, I don't have to tell you that I love God because He already knows that. He doesn't mind sharing the spotlight once since He created the big 3 to begin with. Plus, even if you can't take a joke, He can. So, don't judge me, or you will make baby Jesus cry and then who will the bad guy be? YOU WILL! Do you want to ruin baby Jesus' Valentine's Day? I didn't think so.
Happy Valentine's Day!
Goldie, Bacon and Batman.
My life would be unbearable without you.
Goldie shows me happiness by reminding me that I choose how I to react to life is my choice.
Bacon gives me joy. Meat candy ya'll, what is more joyful than that?
Batman reminds me of peace. I can't change the world, I just have to do whatever right thing I can. And sometimes, that means kicking a little ass.
And NO, I don't have to tell you that I love God because He already knows that. He doesn't mind sharing the spotlight once since He created the big 3 to begin with. Plus, even if you can't take a joke, He can. So, don't judge me, or you will make baby Jesus cry and then who will the bad guy be? YOU WILL! Do you want to ruin baby Jesus' Valentine's Day? I didn't think so.
Happy Valentine's Day!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Humility - Brought to you by the letters PMS and the number mon0
Pride and fear of dependence are two things I have problems with in my life. I am afraid to let people do things for me. I want to be independent. I also have a history of people holding things over my head. They are the type of people who keep a running list of who has done what in a relationship. Actually it is more of a list of what they have done for me in a relationship. The list always comes out in the middle of an argument. It's like they think that they have the right to win any disagreement by recounting every favor they have done me whether I wanted it or not. So, over the years I try not to ask for anything or take anything even when offered.
I have been trying to get over that in the last year. I have failed miserably as evidenced by the fact that even with mono, I have tried my best to circumvent asking for or accepting any help whenever possible. Because of my unwillingness to admit that I am human, yesterday I had a temper tantrum that was on par with a two year old being told they can’t pour their own milk while their older sibling can. It consisted of me crying so hard I made myself hyperventilate and gag because my body couldn’t breathe or swallow while I screamed at the heavens at my cruel, cruel fate that left me barely hanging on. Hello drama queen. Talk about gaining perspective.
After I threw my giant, self-inflicted pity party, I put my big girl panties on. I have accepted seven offers of help in the last 24 hours. Is my whole world falling apart because I admit that I need help? No. Am I able to rest easier knowing that people care for me and I am taken care of? Grudgingly, I can answer yes. I guess sometimes I have to act like a child to realize I need to grow up.
So thank you PMS and Mono for making me come to my senses. Not that I really needed your help. I would have caved eventually. After all, I am out of bacon.
I have been trying to get over that in the last year. I have failed miserably as evidenced by the fact that even with mono, I have tried my best to circumvent asking for or accepting any help whenever possible. Because of my unwillingness to admit that I am human, yesterday I had a temper tantrum that was on par with a two year old being told they can’t pour their own milk while their older sibling can. It consisted of me crying so hard I made myself hyperventilate and gag because my body couldn’t breathe or swallow while I screamed at the heavens at my cruel, cruel fate that left me barely hanging on. Hello drama queen. Talk about gaining perspective.
After I threw my giant, self-inflicted pity party, I put my big girl panties on. I have accepted seven offers of help in the last 24 hours. Is my whole world falling apart because I admit that I need help? No. Am I able to rest easier knowing that people care for me and I am taken care of? Grudgingly, I can answer yes. I guess sometimes I have to act like a child to realize I need to grow up.
So thank you PMS and Mono for making me come to my senses. Not that I really needed your help. I would have caved eventually. After all, I am out of bacon.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Ode to My Mom
Ten years ago, I tried to get her to use email so we could communicate more often after I moved to Denver. Her first and last email to me for eight years was, "I hope you are happy. I am now going to Hell because you are making me use an instrument of the Devil to write this message."
So when I told her about my blog yesterday afternoon, the most I expected was indifference. Instead, the first words out of her mouth were, "Did you write about bacon? You HAVE to write about bacon!" This is when I realized that while I thought I was doing this for myself, I am actually writing this for her. Follow along and you will see why.
My mom called me back later in the evening because she had read my blog and wanted to comment on Goldie, but wasn't sure how to log in and could I walk her through the process. Also she was very upset that I didn't have any followers so she had to follow me so that I can have at least one.
While I was signing her up, I randomly mention, "Did you know that I am a robot?"
She nonchalantly replies, "Of course I know you are a robot. I'm your mom. I picked you up from the manufacturing plant when you were a baby."
What I meant was I can never read those pop up texts that ensure you are not some spambot. She had no clue what I was talking about, but it didn't even phase her. Weirdo.
After she had read through the other posts, she announced her idea on my next subject. I am not making this up, and this will explain SO much about who I am.
She tells me that my next post has to be about bunny slippers and how it is so scary to wear them. Because they have eyes. And you can't wear dresses and bunny slippers because they might peek at your underwear.
I love my mom.
She ended the conversation by telling me that I am her favorite daughter and her other two daughters don't compare. I assumed she meant my sister-in-laws which shocked me into silence*. So, she immediately followed up with, "I meant your brothers." Which turned a wildly misplaced statement into a totally awesome FACE! It is the long awaited for comeback to all the "your mama" jokes my brothers have told to each other over the years. Thank God she waited until I was blogging to finally say something insulting. About the boys. She has slammed me on more than one occasion.
Unlike the rest of the family's witty repartee, these jokes are always a little dazing. Mostly because she rarely says anything that might be construed as mean. But when she does a) she beats everyone else to the joke, which says a lot in my family; b) always sounds like she has been practicing the line for years waiting for that exact moment; and c) delivers it perfectly, generating a split-second of silence as everyone glances around awkwardly at each other to figure out if she is joking. Then the room dissolves into laughter. Meanwhile, I am left contemplating the fact that I was just burned by my mom and trying to decide if I should be offended or proud.
Hint: I am always proud. Thanks for being my first follower.
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*This totally horrified and shocked me into silence because she has taught me that when we marry, our spouses ARE her children and our family and they WILL be treated equally. Which is why I am doubly thankful that my sisters are absolutely amazing because it made the whole idea a no brainer. And also why I am very sorry. But you guys knew what you were marrying into, so maybe just kind of sorry.
So when I told her about my blog yesterday afternoon, the most I expected was indifference. Instead, the first words out of her mouth were, "Did you write about bacon? You HAVE to write about bacon!" This is when I realized that while I thought I was doing this for myself, I am actually writing this for her. Follow along and you will see why.
My mom called me back later in the evening because she had read my blog and wanted to comment on Goldie, but wasn't sure how to log in and could I walk her through the process. Also she was very upset that I didn't have any followers so she had to follow me so that I can have at least one.
While I was signing her up, I randomly mention, "Did you know that I am a robot?"
She nonchalantly replies, "Of course I know you are a robot. I'm your mom. I picked you up from the manufacturing plant when you were a baby."
What I meant was I can never read those pop up texts that ensure you are not some spambot. She had no clue what I was talking about, but it didn't even phase her. Weirdo.
After she had read through the other posts, she announced her idea on my next subject. I am not making this up, and this will explain SO much about who I am.
She tells me that my next post has to be about bunny slippers and how it is so scary to wear them. Because they have eyes. And you can't wear dresses and bunny slippers because they might peek at your underwear.
I love my mom.
She ended the conversation by telling me that I am her favorite daughter and her other two daughters don't compare. I assumed she meant my sister-in-laws which shocked me into silence*. So, she immediately followed up with, "I meant your brothers." Which turned a wildly misplaced statement into a totally awesome FACE! It is the long awaited for comeback to all the "your mama" jokes my brothers have told to each other over the years. Thank God she waited until I was blogging to finally say something insulting. About the boys. She has slammed me on more than one occasion.
Unlike the rest of the family's witty repartee, these jokes are always a little dazing. Mostly because she rarely says anything that might be construed as mean. But when she does a) she beats everyone else to the joke, which says a lot in my family; b) always sounds like she has been practicing the line for years waiting for that exact moment; and c) delivers it perfectly, generating a split-second of silence as everyone glances around awkwardly at each other to figure out if she is joking. Then the room dissolves into laughter. Meanwhile, I am left contemplating the fact that I was just burned by my mom and trying to decide if I should be offended or proud.
Hint: I am always proud. Thanks for being my first follower.
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*This totally horrified and shocked me into silence because she has taught me that when we marry, our spouses ARE her children and our family and they WILL be treated equally. Which is why I am doubly thankful that my sisters are absolutely amazing because it made the whole idea a no brainer. And also why I am very sorry. But you guys knew what you were marrying into, so maybe just kind of sorry.
Friday, February 5, 2010
How to Avoid Losing Weight with Mono
Two words: Bacon Fries
Yes. I did. I swear the fever made me do it. I had made Bacon and then when I went back to make fries a couple of hours later, I saw the pan. Just sitting there. All full of Bacony goodness and drippings and I did it. I fried the french fries in the Bacon grease and may God have mercy on my soul (and ass), but they were Fanfreaking Tastic. So good, I had to split that word in two so that you MIGHT be able to understand.
Now, I know that some of you are going to get freaked out that I used Bacon grease that had been sitting there for a couple of hours, but I can totally assure you that after frying the crap out of that, there were no freaking bacterias or germs left. Do you know how scalding hot that is? Have you ever stuck your hand in Bacon grease? Case closed.
Besides, I have mono and no energy to clean out a pan of perfectly good Bacon grease just so that I can add more Bacon grease from the fridge.
Yes, I keep my Bacon grease, don't judge me! I love all of the Bacon, even the grease. I am not one of those prejudicial people who only find uses for the parts they find attractive and then discard the rest. I am a purist, a realist and a true lover of Bacon. I don't try to change it. I revel in all of the wanton unhealthiness of it all.
Either accept the fact that you love and will eat Bacon no matter how bad it is for you or shut the hell up and go buy that crappy turkey-doesn't-even-deserve-to-be-called-bacon-with-a-lower-case-b and be done. If you can't accept Bacon for what it is, then you don't deserve to feel the love Bacon has to give. Bacon has moved on. Bacon has evolved! Bacon doesn't need your half assed excuses for why it will never be good enough. Bacon doesn't even want to be good enough. Bacon is leaving YOU this time. Yes, Bacon knows you have tried to put it aside before. Bacon isn't blind. Bacon knows you have fallen into the trap of the media and cannot look on it without shame. Bacon knows you have lied about eating it to your friends, your family and even yourself just to look good in your food journal on your daily calorie count. You only want to count the good foods in your life. You hide Bacon because you think it is wrong. Well, Bacon thinks you are wrong! Bacon has had enough of never measuring out proportionately to fit *your* idea of healthy standards. Bacon will no longer be subjected to *your* idea of nutritional value. Nothing will convince Bacon to stay in your home. Bacon has broken up with you. Bacon is leaving you. But Bacon can't drive or even walk. For once, do the right thing by Bacon. Fulfill Bacon's needs and wishes you selfish SOB! Pack Bacon up and drive it to a safe place where it can be truly loved for all that it is.
I am a safe place. Bring Bacon to me. I will nurture it, love it and give it the respect it deserves. In my belly.
Yes. I did. I swear the fever made me do it. I had made Bacon and then when I went back to make fries a couple of hours later, I saw the pan. Just sitting there. All full of Bacony goodness and drippings and I did it. I fried the french fries in the Bacon grease and may God have mercy on my soul (and ass), but they were Fanfreaking Tastic. So good, I had to split that word in two so that you MIGHT be able to understand.
Now, I know that some of you are going to get freaked out that I used Bacon grease that had been sitting there for a couple of hours, but I can totally assure you that after frying the crap out of that, there were no freaking bacterias or germs left. Do you know how scalding hot that is? Have you ever stuck your hand in Bacon grease? Case closed.
Besides, I have mono and no energy to clean out a pan of perfectly good Bacon grease just so that I can add more Bacon grease from the fridge.
Yes, I keep my Bacon grease, don't judge me! I love all of the Bacon, even the grease. I am not one of those prejudicial people who only find uses for the parts they find attractive and then discard the rest. I am a purist, a realist and a true lover of Bacon. I don't try to change it. I revel in all of the wanton unhealthiness of it all.
Either accept the fact that you love and will eat Bacon no matter how bad it is for you or shut the hell up and go buy that crappy turkey-doesn't-even-deserve-to-be-called-bacon-with-a-lower-case-b and be done. If you can't accept Bacon for what it is, then you don't deserve to feel the love Bacon has to give. Bacon has moved on. Bacon has evolved! Bacon doesn't need your half assed excuses for why it will never be good enough. Bacon doesn't even want to be good enough. Bacon is leaving YOU this time. Yes, Bacon knows you have tried to put it aside before. Bacon isn't blind. Bacon knows you have fallen into the trap of the media and cannot look on it without shame. Bacon knows you have lied about eating it to your friends, your family and even yourself just to look good in your food journal on your daily calorie count. You only want to count the good foods in your life. You hide Bacon because you think it is wrong. Well, Bacon thinks you are wrong! Bacon has had enough of never measuring out proportionately to fit *your* idea of healthy standards. Bacon will no longer be subjected to *your* idea of nutritional value. Nothing will convince Bacon to stay in your home. Bacon has broken up with you. Bacon is leaving you. But Bacon can't drive or even walk. For once, do the right thing by Bacon. Fulfill Bacon's needs and wishes you selfish SOB! Pack Bacon up and drive it to a safe place where it can be truly loved for all that it is.
I am a safe place. Bring Bacon to me. I will nurture it, love it and give it the respect it deserves. In my belly.
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