My love affair with bacon began when I was 13. (Cue the harp music) Every weekend, first thing in the morning, it was bacon. Bacon with toast. Bacon with eggs. We were inseparable. Me and bacon against my stomach. Well, my stomach didn't really mind. It kind of egged me on (Pun intended! Yow!).
But I was only a child then. My bacon tastes still hadn't matured. I didn't know then that bacon tastes good on EVERYTHING. Salads, hoagies, burgers, soups and sodas. Bacon made everything gooder not better.
Me and bacon fell in love fast and hard. Under that type of condition, you get blinded. You ignore the truth.
ME: Fuck, Bacon you're killing me!
BACON: What are you talking about? I'm delicious. I'm not killing you. Just ask your stomach.
ME: But you're full of cholesterol! You're clogging my heart!
BACON: That I am. But it's all that grease that makes me taste so fucking good. Come on. Grab me and put me in your mouth.
ME: Oh, I can't quit you! Come over here.
BACON: Why don't you stab me with your fork big boy?
ME: Damn. I love it when you talk to me like that. I'm gonna chew you really slow.
BACON: No. I want it fast. Chew me fast.
ME: Oh, so that's how you want it huh? I hope you're ready for this. I'm gonna pour some OJ and take you down quick you salty slab of pig ass.
We stayed all hot and heavy. Until someone new came into town.
They called it scrapple. It was a grey, pasty block of left over pig parts. I've heard tales of it before but was too timid to wrestle the beast with my mouth.
Then a friend bought some and fried it up.
Might I say it was delicious?
Might I say it tasted like a porky breakfast angel?
I ate it with toast and eggs. I glazed it with ketchup and tickled it with my fork.
Unlike bacon, I could not eat this with ice cream or yogurt. It wasn't much of a team player. This little bugger, scrapple had to keep all it's goodness to itself.
So I cheated on bacon with scrapple.
Bacon got pissed at me and threw some grease at my face. I lost my cool and backhanded it. I connected and knocked it to the ground.
There it was on the floor, covered and dirt and hair.
"I'm so sorry" I cried as scrapple looked on from the frying pan.
"I never meant to do this. I just couldn't help myself!"
"Scrapple," I say "it means nothing to me. Not like you!"
I didn't talk to either of them for awhile after that. We'll not until the next Saturday.
It was morning and I was hungry. I wasn't going to let this food feud keep my belly from reaching happiness. That's when I thought of the impossible.
I took a couple of slices of bacon and cooked it up with a wedge of scrapple. The awesomeness of this meal was greater than any words could describe. Once I dumped the bacon and scrapple onto my plate, they formed some type of breakfast meal Voltron, complete with a blazing fork.
Bacon/ Scrapple Voltron took a swipe at me with it's blazing fork. I dodge it with my super computer processor ninja like reflexes. It was just a diversion.
It tried to climb out the window to escape but never made it. A couple of ketchup bottle squirts and a few chomps later and I was napkining leftover pig parts from the corner of my mouth.







