So there you are, wandering the back alleys of Chinatown, minding your own business and looking for illegal fireworks. Never could you guess that in the next shop, you’d find this adorable creature:
He seems so innocent, so loving, despite the many spikey toothpicks threatening to stab you. Though hesitant to part with this rare creature, you finally convince the shopkeeper’s grandson that you’ll take good care of it and obey all the pesky little rules: Never expose him to direct sunlight, as it can burn his fragile body. Never let him near your cat or dog, as they could kill the bacon man. And most importantly, never feed him after midnight.
You meant well. You followed the rules fastidiously…for a few days. But then you went and showed your careless little friend, and all hell broke loose. Just look what you’ve gotten yourself and your new pet into. Now he’s a bacon demon and nothing can turn him back into the sweet little Mr. Baconhead he used to be. Good job, kid.
Thanks to rissdemeanor for all the kooky images.
Here’s a lovely piece of truth from poopbear. See more of Mr. Poopbear’s art here, and let this little reminder carry you through the day until you can get home and have some bacon. Sometimes its the only thing makes Monday survivable.
I know this is Brutus’ day to post, but he couldn’t make it. Something about grandma being in town and boatloads of ham. In his absence, I thought I’d bring you something both animal and bacon related. And what could be better than Snake ‘n’ Bacon?
People who run across the Snake ‘n’ Bacon comics will inevitably consider them either brilliant or ridiculous. The heroes are a snake and a strip of bacon, which I never would have surmised from the title. Snake only hisses. Bacon only says useful things related to bacon, such as “Pat me with a paper towel to remove excess grease.” Author Michael Kupperman is a wonderful oddball whose work can be found in a number of respected magazines and comic anthologies, and he’s done some project work for the wonderful McSweeney’s.
Looking for a bizarre but entertaining gift for that friend who loves bacon but has everything? Check out a copy of Snake ‘n’ Bacon’s Cartoon Cabaret. You’ll laugh! You’ll gasp! You’ll crave a BLT when you’re done!
I just realized that one of reasons I’m so obsessed with bacon is that my husband is an enabler. He finds more and more ways to use the magical meat in recipes I would never have considered. This week, after a particularly difficult day, I came home to a lovely meal featuring the bacon delight pictured here.
I’m a huge fan of caprese salad…I just love that a “salad” can have cheese as its main component. We had the mozzarella and the tomatoes, but sadly we were lacking for basil. Where I would have rushed to the market to procure the missing ingredient, my husband simply looked at it as a chance to improvise. In this case, he diced and fried a couple slices of bacon, and went forward with the rest of the preparation as usual. Topped with a drizzle of olive oil and a dash of pepper, I assure you I did not miss the basil one bit.
I live in California, a state notorious world-wide for being non-smoking. Anytime we run into a French person (and that could happen anywhere), they guess where we’re from when we decline their offer of a cigarette. Whether in Central America or Asia, the response is now familiar: “Aaaah, Californian.”
While I’m pretty fond of the goody-goody reputation, this product almost makes me want to give smoking a try. Juicy Jay’s Bacon Flavored Papers will give your next puff a smoky goodness that conventional cigarettes lack. Add that to the fact that you’re rolling your own, and you’re now the coolest smoker on the block. The only thing missing is a little maple-flavored tobacco to make this a perfect breakfast treat. Are you allowed to smoke pipe tobacco in cigarette form? Because if so this idea could make me a millionaire.
I’m a very committed Californian, and I really don’t want to condone smoking to anyone, young or old. However, I know there are those of you out there who will smoke regardless of all the health hazards; the surgeon general be damned. So all I can say is that if you MUST kill yourself, at least you can go out with the taste of bacon on your lips.
I’m not sure what this is all about. I’m not sure I want to know.
A big thanks to Matt for this bit of random imagery.
A few years back, and rather late in the evening, my husband, our good friend and I discovered that none of us had ever really been to Vegas, other than driving through en route to further destinations. Given the lateness of the evening and the perfect amount of bourbon consumed, this seemed a great injustice to all members of the party, an injustice that had to be rectified immediately! Immediately, I say!
And so it was that at 10:15 on a Friday night we three fueled up on espresso and headed for Sin City. I took the first leg of the drive, amped on the excitement of a late night road trip. I drove for two or three hours before handing the wheel off to my husband. I then drifted gently to sleep in the back seat.
When I awoke, we were just dropping onto the strip, and I was strangely…furious! Now down from the alcohol and espresso buzzes, this seemed like the world’s most stupid idea.
“What the eff are we doing here? Did we really think we could just stroll into Vegas at 3:30 am and get a cheap hotel room? Why the heck did we even want to come to Vegas?” I was a real joykill, I can tell you that.
We did find a hotel room, although it wasn’t cheap. The tales of cocktail waitresses plying you with free drinks while you gamble turned out not to apply to the nickel slots. Even so, my husband and I gambled away the small amount of cash we had alloted ourselves in very little time. Our friend did better than we did, but still it was less than 16 hours after we arrived that we found ourselves driving away from the bright lights and be-feathered showgirls. The one saving grace of the entire trip was a $6 breakfast buffet and this amazing tray of bacon. Notice the comparative size of the sausage tray. Clearly Vegas knows which breakfast meat is superior. And that’s the best thing I can say about the entire trip.
Somebody please call my roommates, because they won’t listen to me. I’ve been trying to convince them that pigs ears (like horse hooves and other disposable animal parts) are a perfectly natural thing to give to your dog. Seriously, if I saw a real pig, do you know what I would do first thing? I’d run up and chew on his ears. They look that good.
If you’re unable to convince them, then at least talk them into these fake pigs ears, flavored like bacon: Better Than Ears Smoky Bacon Flavor
I seriously doubt they’re as good as, much less better than, real pigs ears. But hey, I’m willing to give it a try. It has to be better than the carob brownies they bought. Yeesh.
In the meantime, don’t tell my roommates that bully sticks are made of bull penis. On second thought, go ahead and tell them what they’ve been handling all these years. They’ll be running for the pigs ears in no time.
PS: Don’t believe me about the bully stick? Go ahead, Google it.
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