food

I have the beat wife ever.

The title of this column was based upon a Facebook message my wife left me yesterday, for our anniversary. You know how hard it is to type messages on a cellphone when there is no real keyboard? Yeah. Well perhaps tomorrow when Haycomet and I get together for our Bacon Talk, we’ll have something to say about cellphones. Anyway, yesterday, as a lot of you may or may not know, was my red-haired wife’s and my first anniversary. Yes, friends, what that means is that we have been married for most of a year. Or close to a year. Something having to do with a year. And, as the title suggests, she is the beat wife ever.

You see, she says some things like that sometimes, when there are not even any keyboards around. She misspeaks and they become terms of endearment, naturally, for me. Like how she says, “Chipolte” instead of Chipotle. Or she’ll call me her “Knight and shining armor”. You know, cute things that red-haired wives do that make us smile. But yesterday, for our anniversary, she did what was perhaps to go down in history as one of the awesomest things anyone has ever done for me. She got me a lunchbox.

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  • Reading time:8 mins read

The The Bacon Paradox

Have you ever heard of the Bacon Paradox? Actually, I think the The is capitalized, so it would technically read, The Bacon Paradox. And since the The is capitalized and part of the title, it would be appropriate in its proper noun sense to refer to it as the The Bacon Paradox. In which case, you should then go ahead and capitalize the first the, e.g. The The Bacon Paradox. You obviously then add another the, it becomes capitalized, and so on, ad nauseum.

Yeah. Sort of like the TTR report, in which the acronym formally stands for “The TTR Report”. Figure that one out.

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  • Reading time:5 mins read

Bacon Talk: Toilets

A great thing about having a huge group of writers on staff is that Space always has hundreds of articles to choose from daily. I’m just so darn talented, so that’s why he picks at least one of my pieces every week. Okay, seriously though, I almost didn’t get that all typed before I started laughing. Space and I are the two main writers and sometimes we get “blocked” or just plain busy and need to come up with anything at all to fill a day. We don’t want our faithful readers sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth, saying, “I need my SpaceBrew, I need my SpaceBrew, I need my SpaceBrew…” So today Space and I have collaborated to write this amazing article- one worthy of a Pulitzer! It’s about toilets. Why not? We can only post so many stories about bacon, any more and Space said he is going to rename the site SpaceBacon. So here we go…
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  • Reading time:8 mins read

Do these genes make me look fat?

I hear people all the time saying obesity is a disease. They talk like it’s something people get infected with, and there’s nothing they can do about it. Like cancer. Oh no, you got the fat? So sorry to hear that. Did the doctor say how long you have? I’ve also heard people say it’s genetic and there’s nothing they can do about it. My dad was fat so I have to accept that I’m fat too, and there’s not much point in trying to change it. What?

I’ve known people who go through phases where they gain a bunch of weight, then get busy, bust their ass, and lose it. Is that genetic too? See I think our problem here in America is the fact that we want to be lazy. Whether or not we’re lazy seems to be irrelevant. We want to be lazy. We don’t want to do anything about it. We’d rather sit around eating twinkies, getting fatter and bitching about how we’re fat. I say be fat and happy, or lose weight. No excuses for being fat and pissed off about it.

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  • Reading time:5 mins read

Bra Cups and Batteries

Here’s a list of stuff that’s been occupying at least a small portion of my small mind over the last few days. I want to break them down and share them with you. Tell me what you think.

Have you noticed that both bras and batteries have a lettering system that kind of defies logic? Why is A the smallest bra size, but in batteries there is no A? There’s an AA and an AAA, but no A, and no B. And the AAA is smaller than the AA. In bras, there is a B, C and D. But instead of jumping up to E, it goes to Double D. Hell yeah. All you women wearing Double D out there reprazent! Let’s see ’em! Just kidding. But not really. Even though I kind of am, I kind of ain’t too. Know what I mean? I mean, like, if you want to sh– okay, okay, sorry. I went off on a tangent.

But why is there a Double D? Why not just make the Double D be the new E? And they should have AA as well. For the smaller chested women, you know. And maybe even a AAA. And why the hell are there no B batteries? I love the B size. I think it’s my favorite. So it would probably be my favorite battery too. All you women out there with Bs on your chest, lemme hear you say “YEAH!” Hell yeah. Send your pics here. Okay, okay, I’ll calm down. I don’t really even like boobs that much. Seriously. I’ve just been kidding with y’all.

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  • Reading time:5 mins read

Meal Ticket for a Bad Meal

We were talking last night about the concept of the discount coupon, the refund and the free meal ticket. So say you go into a restaurant, you order a nice big meal, you eat it, then you get sick and end up spending the next nine hours pinwheeling in your bathtub. For those of you who don’t know what pinwheeling is, imagine you’re spraying out of both ends. If you were to take a spear and stick it through your side into the wall, the force of the liquids coming out of you would propel you to spin, doing backflips on the spear.

After you spend all night in the shitter, you call the restaurant, or even better – go back up there, and they give you a free meal ticket to make it up to you. Ahem. Like you really want to eat there again? That was one shitty cookie! Can I have a discount on my next shitty cookie? Yeah it really doesn’t make much sense. Same thing with shitty haircuts. You might get a coupon for a free haircut since they effed your head up this time. Uh huh. That is one valuable coupon. I know I don’t keep going back to places that don’t do their job right.

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  • Reading time:6 mins read

Shover Robot No Longer Cooks Bacon

It’s funny how you never realize how much you count on your electric appliances until one finally comes alive, says, “PAK CHOOIE” and pushes your grandma down the stairs to protect her from the Terrible Secret of Space. Allow me to explain.

Saturday, 26 June 2010

Step, my red-haired wife, had decided that she needed to clean out the microwave oven, which is I guess what red-haired wives all over the world do. I don’t ever really pay much attention to it, so long as it reheats my bacon and my bacon-bacon burgers. Though lately it has begun to take on some of the physical properties of a cave, what with the brown rock stalactites that cling to its ceiling, and the rocky crevasses and stalagmites all over the walls and floor. The plates still fit in there, though they sort of sat at an awkward angle on the rocky surface… But I digress.

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A Real Local Celebrity

I was listening to the radio in the kitchen Saturday morning (because we have one of those kick ass radios that mounts under your cabinets and plays your iPod and stuff…) when the most interesting thing happened. I got annoyed. Yeah I know, it’s not seldom that happens. Anyway, this guy called in and was making a joke about one of the disk jockeys, so one of the hosts goes, “Tell him who you are!” to the guy on the phone. So of course our ears perk up and we get all excited, because there’s someone who is obviously very important on the phone.

It was the corny dog eating champ.

So this guy ate twelve corn dogs in like ten minutes and is obviously very proud of himself. And the hosts were asking him questions about eating corny dogs and whatnot. He’s answering them like he’s an authority on something. Get over yourself! You ate a dozen corny dogs at the state fair! I bet there are three people on my street who could beat that record, but you just happened to show up to the fair. And enter the contest. Fag.

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My fly troubles are over.

You know what Venus Flytraps do? They catch mothereffing flies, that’s what! These things kick ass. If you’ve never seen one in action, I suggest you run up to your local hardware store or retnec repus tram law and pick one up. My girlfriend walked by a whole aisle of them yesterday and said, “Ooh ooh, kick ass! Check this out, Space!” Yes, she calls me Space.

So to make a short story long, we came home with a Venus Mothereffing Flytrap. And it does what the container advertised: it traps some mothereffing flies.

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  • Post category:science
  • Reading time:3 mins read

Lost Treasures

Over the last couple of years, Captain and I have analyzed and cataloged the inventories of over seventeen thousand couches. We took our science team, which consists of our Department of Couch Research, our Department of Breast Analysis and Appreciation, and our entire Ministry of Sexual Relations. Don’t ask why we needed those departments. But you can see how couches have to do with sex, at least in some respects.

Anyway, what we endeavored to do was to find out what people had lost in their couches. And there were plenty of treasures to be found. People with children usually had a few Legos and some small plastic pieces of play fence. People with cats found a lot of cat hair and an occasional chunk or two of litter, sometimes a play ball (you know the ones with the little bells in the middle of them?). But the most popular items we found in people’s couches were French Fries and pennies. Ninety-six percent of the couches we cataloged had at least one of each beneath their cushions.

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  • Post category:science
  • Reading time:3 mins read