My friend Derek was at the after party last night with a baggie of candied bacon in his pocket. He'd pull it out and open the bag wafting bacon smell out into your face before the offer "Candied bacon?" The first one is free kid. Little did I know that one bite of it would lead me out to the food truck outside where they were selling chocolate covered bacon which I loved soo much that later when our coach pulled out a bacon chocolate bar and offer everyone in the room a square, I would put both hands up and yell "Me! Me! Oooh, me me me! Pick me!" while hip checking every one in the way, between me and that little square of artery hardening goodness. I hope last night's binge doesn't lead to a hardcore deep fried butter habit.
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Dear Greenpeace, sending me an e-mail with the subject line "A Horrible Way to Die" does not entice me to open your e-mail. Put some candied bacon in your pocket.
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