(Sometimes I feel like my whole life is about bacon. And I’m quite often correct in that feeling. That’s why you’re reading this right now. “Bacon” was my fault.)
If you’ve seen the buzz around here or read my last reblogged post, you already know about the experiment by the lovely and talented Jessie Janelle Reyna and her noun experiment. Today’s noun is “bacon”. Brought to you by the letter “B”.
I grew up with parents who ate extremely healthily(ish) so we never had bacon in the house.
(Unless it was Canadian bacon. Which bothered me. No offense, Canada. It’s just that your bacon kinda sucks.)
So now that I’m a “grownup”, I have bacon all the time. But contrary to popular belief, there can be such a thing as too much bacon, and I’m living it. My boyfriend (Alessandro) shares many commonalities with Ron Swanson: the mustache, the stubborn nonsense, and a love for bacon that rivals his love for me.
Bacon is in pretty much everything I eat because Alessandro uses bacon and bacon fat like other people use oil or salt. The other day I came into the kitchen and frying in the pan was the largest piece of bacon I’ve ever seen. About a foot long, 4 inches thick and 4 inches deep. (I should’ve taken a picture.)
My house is like this:
It’s scary. And often smells. It’s gotten to the point where I get nauseous if I smell pork cooking.
But that doesn’t matter. Because bacon is like crack so I eat it anyway.
Well, that’s all for me. Check out the crew of “Turn Noun For What?!” and read more about bacon and stuff.
(My most graceful moments have happened in my Timberland’s. They’re like ballet slippers but for people who actually have to do stuff. Like carving trails through the woods or kicking some fool’s door in ’cause he hasn’t paid you back. It’s a versatile shoe.)
I’ve had my boots since the sixth grade which would make them a little over 10 years old. We’ve been through so much together. Good times like when we hiked through that old Native American trail and I would’ve slipped down this hill into a ravine if I didn’t have my trusty ‘ol Timb’s on.
Bad times like when my ex got arrested that one New Year’s Eve and I fell down a stripper pole (see story here).
I’m not much for believing in luck, but I reaallllyyy cannot figure out these shoes. If anything, they’re more like a rollercoaster of good and bad experiences that prove the great Karmic balance of the universe.
Like Thursday, for example: I woke up to find out one of my cousins died, but then I got to class and everyone loved my story so much, my teacher even convinced me to turn it into a novel (so that’s something I might be doing in the near future, just so everyone’s aware). I spent most of the day alone but then one of my best friends tells me he’s coming over and we’re gonna drink whiskey and tell tales of the sea. Needless to say, I’m totally stoked. Then as I’m gliding excitedly down the stairs to receive him at the door (that sounded dirty, but you know what I meant), I pull a full-on Scarlett O’Hara and tumble down the stairs.
If anyone reading this is a tumbler, I hit the halfway point of the stairs, started sliding, and then ended with a full birandi(sp?) (landing on my back instead of my feet).
Alessandro was upstairs chilling, all like:
The irony here is that about a year ago when we lived at our last apartment, the same friend who I fell down the stairs to see (running just isn’t fast enough), fell down those other stairs and literally broke his face. The ambulance came and I had to hold his head so he didn’t drown in his own blood, and then they put a metal plate in his face that makes all the metal detectors at government buildings start freaking out.
So, ‘ya know… silver linings and such. (There’s humor everywhere if you look hard enough.)
Anyways, back to me. Now I have what looks like a banana crossbred with a softball coming out of my leg and it hurts to type. If you know what getting the tar beaten out of you feels like, I’m totally there right now. And of course, Alessandro is once again too busy working to take care of his sad hobbled girlfriend.
(Side Note: some people have been asking why I don’t just wear my new Timberland’s instead. Well, I absolutely would, but when I was ordering them I wasn’t picturing myself wearing them but perhaps 50 Cent, and they came out a little flashier than I would have liked.)
So be careful out there, everybody! (And avoid all stairs if possible.)
(A complex man with complex thoughts and a sage-like wisdom, Kenneth Powers provides laughter to all and guidance to many.)
If you haven’t already seen one of the greatest television programs known to man, a.k.a. “Eastbound & Down“, you should stop what you’re doing immediately and run to your nearest HBO provider.
For those of you who don’t know the story, it’s about a dude who became a huge baseball star after high school and then pissed his success away with drugs, ladies, and alcohol. “Several shitty years later”, he returns to his hometown, down on his luck.
“But a true champion, face to face in his darkest hour will do whatever it takes to rise above. A man fights, fights, and fights some more. Because surrender is death, and death is for pussies. And my ass ain’t no pussy. My ass is a fucking champion.“
Through his life and his audio book, Kenny Powers shows us how to live…
1. Confidence is key.
“Undaunted, I knew the game was mine to win. Just like in life, all of my successes depend on me. I’m the man who has the ball; I’m the man who can throw it faster than fuck. So, that is why I’m better than everyone in the world. Kiss my ass and suck my dick, everyone.”
2. Race is just a label.
“Honestly, I can’t even believe that you would look at me and the word ‘gringo’ would even come to mind. Does it make your life easier just to throw a quick racist term at somebody? A man who has seen the things I have seen, experienced the loss and pain that I’ve experienced. I transcend race, hombre.”
3. Work hard, play harder.
4. The Yukon Denali XL is man’s greatest vehicular achievement.
“I got the glory. I get the fame, the money, the jewels, the cash, the Denali. Getting drunk on the reg, fucking good times on the reg, yachts on the reg, sex on the reg. Basically, all the shit that most men fantasize about.”
(Also, it’s my dream car. If this writing thing ever goes anywhere, I’m getting one.)
5. Take a break from technology and live your life.
6. Making money is important.
“The amount of money I’m gonna be making would hurt your parents feelings. You remember the class where I taught you all how to make it rain? That’s what I’m going to be doing every, single night. Dollar, dollar bills, y’all.”
7. You don’t have to be a Crossfit/P90x/gym-rat.
(I think this is even a meme now.)
8. Examine your weaknesses as well as your strengths.
“In Mexico, a man can truly get lost. And, if you’re a bank robber, or maybe someone who’s committed a fucked up, crazy crime, then that’s a good thing. But hiding takes it’s toll. At first you don’t realize it but, soon the identity that you tried to shed starts getting pissed and knocking at your insides. You know, when dealing with deep depression and sad shit, it’s cool to pretend like nothing is wrong. That, sometimes, works. But, eventually, you got to call a goddamn spade a spade and be like , ‘Yo, I’m fucked up and I got to make a change.'”
9. People will be dicks, but you don’t have to like everybody.
“You don’t like me? Well you’re the one with a fucking disability. It should be me not liking you, and yet I accept you. And you do this to me? Man, fuck you, you midget. I’m taking the fucking cocks.”
10. Things eventually get better.
“Chapter 10: Making the world your bitch. Once again, I’m with the hottest chick in town, buying the most expensive fashions, dining in the fanciest food places, riding around on goddam jet-skis, raining trim, hallucinogens, jet-skis again, throwing heat and getting laid. Did this tale end the way I thought it would? Probably not. But as long as I win, who gives a shit?”
There you have it. The wisdom of Kenny Powers. All of us could stand to take a lesson from this great man.
“So in closing, I’d like to give big ups to God, Buddha, L. Ron, whoever. Hell, maybe I just need to thank me. If there’s one thing I’ve learned through all my adventures and conquests is that some people are just wired for success. I had no choice when it came to being great. I just am great. I’m not trying to sound cocky, or full of myself. But, Kenny Powers has a sneaking suspicion that no matter what comes his way, he will always be great. Because that’s just the way shit works sometimes.”
(Maybe if the father was around, we wouldn’t be in this situation. I blame the system. And Penn State. Because when in doubt, blame Penn State.)
So it’s finally March and I’m hoping that the crippling darkness and cold will pass so I can once again emerge from my cave and rejoin humanity. Although I hope humanity gets hit in the head with a frying pan and gets out of this alternate state wherein they care about stupid shit.
Like the color of a goddamn dress. And 99.9% of what happens on Facebook.
Also, someone out there tricked me into seeing child pornography. The kid found my phone number somehow and snapchatted me a picture of his penis. Which begs the question…
DO I SEEM LIKE THE KIND OF PERSON YOU CAN SEND PICTURES OF YOUR DICK TO?!?!?!
(I pray the answer is “no”.)
Especially penises who are under 18. So if any of you jokers out there think you should, be advised: I will kill you. Because I refuse to be an “accidental felon”. If there is any crime to commit, it shall be my own choice. To paraphrase Eleanor Roosevelt, no one can make you a criminal without your consent.
In other news, Pennsylvania is an unfortunate place to live. Don’t come here. I totally got shafted trying to VOLUNTEER for Tom Wolf’s inaugural ceremony because I’m not a registered Democrat. I literally wasn’t allowed to volunteer because I’m a Republican. How much bullshit is that?!
A lot of bullshit. Is the answer to that question.
Plus, I’m buried in homework and almost out of oxygen. Because college is terrible.
But on the bright side, Pennsylvania has finally privatized the sale of liquor and stuff, so now I don’t have to go to the stupid state store which is always closed. And Spring Break starts on the 8th, so I’ll finally have some time to write on here again and possibly clean out my thousands of unread emails.
Anyways, thanks for hanging in there while I viciously neglected you all. Hopefully circumstance doesn’t kill me and I reclaim my life soon. The other night, I got super drunk and bought $40 worth of nail polish and a Wallflowers CD on Amazon. Be careful out there.
(According to me. If you disagree or would like to add some, please type it loud and proud in the comments. Or evaluate me on a psychological basis. It’s up to you.)
This is my gratuitous “What I’m Thankful For” post. Though often trite, these posts are necessary to mankind because we’re all usually ungrateful dicks. So here’s my list of things that I’m thankful for never ceasing to make me laugh.
Self-explanatory. If you disagree, you clearly don’t know any gastroenterologists.
2. “Today Show” Fails.
Drunk people on morning tv? Never gets old. Specifically ANYTHING Matt Lauer does or says. The man is a god.
3. Cats doing anything.
Need I say more?
6. The Clip of George W. Bush Dodging That Shoe.
7. Drunk Animals on YouTube.
Look it up. You won’t be sorry.
8. Larry David.
9. The Movie “Super Troopers”.
You can agree or not. I’ll still be laughing.
10. Henry Winkler.
Just because. It’s like asking “Why is poop funny?” It just is.
11. People Falling.
12. Tina Fey And Amy Poehler Together.
They’re amazing. I wish I had a best gal pal.
So that’s my list. What about you people? What never stops being funny to you?