Cookiebitch

THERE'S ALWAYS ROOM FOR BACON

I found out today I missed the opportunity to realize my life-long dream of becoming a Bacon Tycoon.

People close to me have often heard me say that if I could do one thing to make a difference in the world - to make the earth a happier place - it would be to make everything taste like bacon.

Think of it. Everyone WANTS to eat bacon. But we all also know that if you succumb too often to that crispy brown goodness swaddled in a glistening coat of swine fat, you will most likely keel over from a massive stroke by the age of 35. So you try to eat celery instead, all the time FANTASIZING about bacon. Mmmmm ...

And then there are the vegetarians and vegans. Granted, they are freaks. Still, I feel sorry for them, for they have never experienced the pure joy of dipping a slice of perfectly fried pig's flesh into the yolk of an over-easy egg. Or watching a piece of prosciutto slowly curl itself around a sea scallop as they are barbecued in a lover's embrace. To give this up is like giving up sex, or laughter, or music. For a life without bacon, is a life without joy. But if you could bring that joy to the leaf-eating masses somehow, without asking them to give up their freakish values - well that would be the ultimate gift, wouldn't it? And to put bacon in a form that would not make your arteries harden or cause you to look like Jabba the Hutt - well that would be an accomplishment as great as putting a man on the moon!

But I am not a scientist. I am a dreamer. So while I have imagined this perfect bacon Nirvana, I have never known how to make it a reality.

Then the other day, my niece texted me this:

"I just listened to a presentation from the founders of Bacon Salt - their motto is 'Everything should taste like bacon.' Isn't that your dream?"

Damnit! These people stole my idea! Still, I was intrigued ... how did these geniuses harness the complex flavors of the bacon strip and compress it into itsy bitsy grains of salt? If this was possible, what was next? Teleportation? World peace? Comfortable panty-hose?

I started to research this magic pork powder and the men who developed it, and what I found out was AMAZING.

The founders of Bacon Salt - Justin and Dave (yes, just mere mortals - who woulda thought?) started the business with $5,000 Dave won on America's Funniest Home Videos for a movie of his son hitting a T-ball at his face. Brilliant! A man who isn't afraid to exploit his children for money already has my respect! 

Justin and Dave's love of bacon led them to tirelessly research how to bring a better way to eat bacon to the masses. The result is Bacon Salt - a zero calorie, zero fat, vegetarian and kosher seasoning that makes everything taste like bacon.

This fairy pig dust seems just too good to be true. But the reviews on their web site offer overwhelming evidence of this bacon miracle. Here are just some of the testimonials:

"Thank you for organizing the party in my mouth."

"My savior has arrived and its name is Bacon Salt."

“I can't think of an individual thing you should try it on, because it belongs on almost everything. Heck, you could season one of your knit socks and suck out it out through the fibers.”

“When you put Bacon Salt on mashed potatoes, they try to eat themselves.”

“Epoch shattering invention.”

According to the Bacon Salt site, Bacon Salt has also been talked about on ABC News, Fox News, and Good Morning America - just to name a few. Groups have formed in this product's honor like "The Bacon Salt Society," "The Church of the Holy Bacon Salt," Bacontologists, and a Facebook group called "Bacon Salt: Because it was inevitable." People are even dressing up as 7 foot tall pieces of bacon to celebrate this earth shattering seasoning.

Bacon Salt also comes in a variety of flavors including original, hickory, peppered and natural. But they also have limited edition flavors like applewood, maple, cheddar, jalapeno and mesquite. It's like a crack house of bacon, I'm telling you!

The company also recently released another product called Baconnaisse. That's right, people. Bacon is now SPREADABLE. And if that even isn't enough, they also have come up with bacon-flavored lip balm to constantly remind you of the awesome power of bacon. Still, I'm concerned about the dangers this last product may pose to pet owners. Making yourself taste like bacon is a recipe for disaster that will either get you french kissed by your Poodle, or leave you without lips after your Doberman has them for lunch. And let's face it, if you are constantly licking your lips to access more bacony flavor, people will start to think you're weird, especially if you tell them, "I taste delicious."

But Justin and Dave aren't just bacon masters, they are bacon humanitarians, launching "Operation Bacon" - a program that delivers Bacon Salt to our troops who are serving in bacon-less countries. Because yah, it sucks to be in the middle of the fucking desert with people bombing your ass. But to do it without BACON???? That's just inhumane.

But why just stop with the troops? Why not drop cases of it into areas known to be frequented by terrorist groups? My theory is that the reason there are suicide bombers in the world is because these people don't have bacon and therefore have nothing to live for. Give them bacon, and world peace could be just around the corner. With Bacon Salt, they don't even have to break any religious rules about eating pork, because there is no pork in it. I'm telling you, this could CHANGE THE WORLD!

Believe it or not, though, there are limits to my love of bacon, and I think Justin and Dave have not just reached those limits, but crossed over them with reckless abandon when they announced on their Bacon Salt blog their latest idea for making EVERYTHING taste like bacon - baconlube. The motto of this product? "Keep it Sizzlin'." And folks, they are looking for volunteers to "beta test" this bacon-flavored love jelly.

Now I think we can agree that everyone loves bacon - but to "LOVE" bacon as you're loving your significant other? Well that's just a threesome I can't quite get into. I mean, wouldn't it be a little like going down on BABE or Porky Pig? "Thhhhhhhat's all folks!"

Plus, I want to know that I am being loved for me, not for my bacon-flavored vagina - although let's face it, that is a man's ultimate fantasy. Which brings me to my next point - In a love triangle that includes a man, a woman, and bacon, is the woman really going to come out on top?

Still, Justin and Dave seem to have appealed to a segment of the bacon-loving market. Just look at some of the comments left on their blog:

"...because my girlfriend has always said "baby, i wish you tasted more like bacon" when she was down there......"

"Perfect for Passover!"

"Is this still kosher? It probably depends where you put it. ;-)"

I guess I can't blame Justin and Dave for pushing the envelope. As long as it is bacon-flavored, of course. And while I won't be signing up to help test this new Baconlube in the traditional way, I may buy a jar once it is available in stores. I bet it's great on toast.

Check out the Bacon Salt movie above - and wait through the testimonials for some funny quotes and pictures.

DOWN WITH ASSHOLES

My friend went to the doctor yesterday. When she went in, there was no one parked in the spot on her driver's side. But when she came out, she was greeted by this:

 

Are you fucking KIDDING me???!!!! Not only did this moron park in a spot that was clearly labeled compact, but the fucker felt it neccesary to park diagonally, completely blocking any hope that my friend had of getting back into her car the same way she came out. 

Why did this person do this? Because they are a complete and total ASSHOLE. There is no denying this fact - no arguing this point. You can also probably add that they are a bad driver - and never have sex because they drive a Ford Aerostar van. But even these observations would take a backseat to the overwhelming message this person is sending, which is: "I AM A STUPID, SELFISH, DUMB-FUCK ASSHOLE." In fact, they should just get that tattooed on their forehead as a warning to others, so we can all either stay clear, or beat the living shit out of them for sport.

Now I guess my friend could take a little comfort in the fact that the Asshole didn't actually hit her car. And I suppose it takes some skill to get this close to another vehicle - close enough to barely slide a piece of paper in between the two cars - without hitting it.

Still, I doubt my friend was impressed when she had to contort her body through the passengers side door and over the gear shift to get behind the wheel. Considering she was at the doctor for a shoulder injury, this wasn't exactly helping her recovery either. Thanks again, ASSHOLE.

Not to mention that once she did manage to get into the drivers seat - after almost having sexual relations with the parking break - she was then faced with the dilemma of trying to back up without hitting the Asshole's van. Which really ... who the fuck cares about his van? I would have been happy to run it over with a semi-truck, if I had one handy. But the last thing you want to do is damage your own car because this shit-stick can't park.

And the REAL scary part is that this Asshole isn't alone. There is an ARMY of this kind of asshole out there. I know because two of them hemmed in my car so badly at a parking garage once I was forced to wedge my ample butt, and even more ample tits through my sun roof in order to get into my car - narrowly avoiding a call to the fire department asking them to bring the Jaws of Life.

Someone needs to create an Asshole Hotline so when incidents like these happen, we can call and get some big, hairy, burly guys - possibly named Bubba and Igor - to come over and help us teach these fuckers a lesson by turning their vehicles on their roofs and welding their doors shut. This way, when the Asshole comes out to get into their car, they will understand how we felt when we saw what they did to us. And then THEY'LL be the ones screaming "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!" And then we can point and laugh, and maybe throw rocks at them. Because that would be fun.

In the meantime though, we are forced to take matters in our own hands without the aid of the Asshole Hotline and Bubba and Igor.

I have a few ideas for this. First, if the Asshole didn't lock their vehicle, I would suggest getting in on their driver's side - which as you can see in this case has plenty of room - and pissing on their front seat. Hopefully you would have recently consumed a Big Gulp or a venti latte so you have lots of piss to share. When the Asshole gets into their vehicle, they will be greated by a wet, clammy sensation that can only be urine soaking through their pants, followed by the unmistakable stench of someone relieving themselves - a stench that won't easily be forgotten, or covered up. Beautiful.

If they did lock the vehicle (or even if they didn't), I would suggest letting the air out of the tires. Don't slash them - as if someone sees you there could be a vandalism charge brought against you, and that would just let the Asshole win. Instead, just use a tire pressure gauge and make the tires go flat as a pancake. Asshole will spend hours trying to figure out how the fuck THAT happened. 

Finally, write down the Asshole's license plate number and call the cops to report you saw someone shoving what looked like a dead body wrapped in a carpet in the trunk of this vehicle. When Asshole comes back, imagine their shock when a bunch of cops there are waiting, hopefully with Tasers. With any luck, Asshole may even get a cavity search. Bonus!

Come on people. It's us against the assholes. Let's take a stand.

WONDER WOMAN HAS NOTHIN' ON ME

 

My friend The Hotfessional (also known as Professor Caped Stick) introduced me to The Hero Factory, where you can create your own Superhero character. It's fun, but not quite accurate, as it gave me the superhero name of "Merciful Avenger." Since I hate mercy, and think it's mostly for pussies, I changed it in Photoshop to be "The Bitchy Avenger" which has a much better ring to it, don't you think?

I'm also a little disappointed because the site didn't give me the option of wearing some kick-ass stilettos. You may not know this, but stilettos not only make you look taller and sexier, but are also an effective weapon as you can quickly take them off and drive the heel through someone's ball-sack, or eye, or any soft tissue. No superhero should be without a good pair - or in my case 80 (you know, for backup).

However, because my talents in Photoshop are limited, I could not alter the picture to include a pair of Christian Louboutins. So I've resorted to running around the city beating people up in bare feet - mostly because I refuse to wear Superhero boots that resemble Uggs (or should I say Fuggs - because they are FUCKING UGLY!)

You'll also note I chose not to wear pants because they are fucking uncomfortable and if I'm going to be saving the world, I'm going to do it so I can BREATHE and not have a waistband digging into me - especially after I've eaten a super burrito for lunch. I did, however, choose to wear a supportive, bullet-proof top because with my rack, I don't need to be giving myself whiplash as I'm running after bad guys.

So now it's just a matter of figuring out what kind of super powers I want to have.

Most people would choose flying as a power, but quite frankly, I don't need my hair getting all wind-blown and my teeth getting pummeled with bug guts. That's for your "special" heroes like Superman, who let's face it, was not the brightest bulb on his planet, which is why they dropped him off here - so they wouldn't have to deal with his stupid ass. I would much prefer a private jet of some sort that comes with a lot of half-naked men on board that cater to my every whim. Because when I get to where I'm going, I'll need to be relaxed to rid the world of evil, not all tired and jet-lagged.

I don't need x-ray vision either, because people are ugly enough without me having to see through their clothes and crazy enough without me having to see what they do behind closed doors. Superheroes don't have time for therapy.

I *do* want super strength though ... just so I could teach a lesson to people doing really annoying shit that deserve a good ass kicking. Like the chick at work today who just stood in the middle of the fucking main doorway for 30 minutes with her enormous shelf ass that you could set a couple of martinis and a cheese plate on. She was completely oblivious to the fact she was blocking EVERYONE'S path with her behind. She just chatted away inanely about cleaning her tile grout this weekend to another woman who at least had the courtesy to stand AWAY from the door - probably as she was looking for an escape route, or something sharp to help end the conversation. How fun would it have been to have been able to pick table-tush up and toss her over the second floor landing and watch her bounce off the lobby floor. That would make her think twice before blocking someone's path again. And what is a Superhero if they can't get people to learn from their mistakes?

I'd also want the ability to render people completely mute. When I found people talking about completely useless shit that no one cares about - like their quest to find that last Donny and Marie album on Ebay to complete their collection - I'd just shoot lasers out of my eyes and they would lose the ability to speak or make sound. Think of all the people I would save from being bored to death! Not to mention the wars I could divert by keeping people from pissing each other off because they didn't know when to keep their mouths shut.

And while I think Wonder Woman's truth lasso was pretty freakin' cool, I'm thinking that instead I would like a magic mirror that when I held it up to people they could actually see themselves clearly. They would see how ridiculous they look in those parachute pants, or understand for the first time that they don't know as much as they think they do, or realize in one big epiphany that they really are a complete asshole. Because it seems that the thing people are lacking most in this world - besides common sense - is SELF AWARENESS. They just wander through life thinking they are the center of the fucking universe, when really they are a cockroach on the ass of the universe.

Of course, like any good Superhero, I'd also need a sidekick, and who better to be at my side than The Little Avenger, my faithful midget, who I could launch at enemies using a slingshot I kept in my Gucci purse. Bad guys wouldn't know what hit them. 

"Look in the sky! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No ... it's .. OH MY GOD ... it's an ANGRY MIDGET! RUUUUUNNNNNN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!!!!"

Yes, The Mini-Avenger and I will clean up this planet - and all the idiots in it - starting with bitchy store-clerks and ending with the Oxy-clean guy, who, let's face it, NEEDS to shut the fuck up. It's a big job, but somebody's got to do it. And hey, I've already got the uniform ...

CAN WE PUT IT IN THE WATER?

BIG LIES ABOUT THE BIG O

 

Two recent news articles have me thinking that people not only in the general public are stupid lunatics, but seemingly EDUCATED people - people of SCIENCE - are also completely off their rocker.

The first article is from The Sunday Times in the UK and proclaims that women can experience a drug-free, pain-free labor that comes with ... are you ready for this??? ... multiple orgasms.

Now I have never given birth ... THANK GOD ... so my point of reference here is limited, I admit. But I was present during a friend's labor as a substitute coach and saw many films about child birth. Okay, so I really only saw the beginning of a lot of child birth films. I usually passed out or ran into the bathroom to vomit somewhere in the middle and never quite got to the end.

Still, I can tell you from these experiences that not once did I see a woman having a good time. Not even close. There were moans and screams - yes. But these cries were not of the "OH YAH ... RIGHT THERE, BABY" variety as much as in the "KILL ME NOW SO THE PAIN WILL STOP" category.

I'm thinking that when your vagina opens up to roughly 200 times its normal size, ripping you in half because an alien being is writhing its enormous head out of it, it is not a pleasurable experience. That's probably why they don't write a lot of romance novels about it.

But hey ... again ... I've never given birth so who am I to poo-poo science? So I asked some women who did give birth what they thought of this story.

After the laughing stopped, this is what they told me:

Mom #1 - gave birth once, naturally.

"What complete and utter bull-shit! Who has time to concentrate on having an orgasm when it feels like you are being pulled inside out? And even if you COULD have multiple orgasms, is it really the appropriate place and time - in front of all those doctors and nurses - to be writhing around and moaning "YES, YES, YESSSSSSSSS ...."

Mom #2 - gave birth twice, once naturally, once by C-section.

"I think these people are smoking crack. Being in labor is the most horrific and grueling pain I have ever experienced. I wanted to die when I was having my son. I wanted someone to hit me over the head with a hammer and end my misery. I don't know how someone could have enjoyed that, unless they were a masochist and get off on pain."

Mom #3 - gave birth four times.

"The only way I was able to have four children was because of drugs. And all I can think of is that these women who said they experienced an orgasm while giving birth had too many drugs. It had to be a drug-induced hallucination. Or maybe they were in so much pain they were delirious?"

Mom #4 - gave birth once and says that was enough.

"Seriously, orgasms are great and all, but who wants an orgasm THEN? I'd much rather have 5 minutes of pain-free peace and quiet - and maybe a margarita. Save the orgasms for after the baby is out and in college. Because until then, I don't have time."

Mom #5 - gave birth once.

"Was the doctor doing something? Maybe with his tongue? Although that would be ... very ... gross."

Mom #6 - had one child, pregnant again.

"I had a C-section the first time and am ADAMANT about doing a vaginal birth this time. If I can have an orgasm too ... are you kidding? Sign me up right now! I mean you are using the same muscles I think, although I don't really know. I was hoping the article offered tips or something, but it didn't. Needless to say, I'm mildly disappointed."

Just think how disappointed she's going to be when she finds out that Mom's 1 through 4 are right and this article is all a ploy to get a million dollar grant? But I'm going to keep an open mind. I've asked her to report back to me  ... you know, in the name of science. For her sake, I hope this article is right.

I don't need anyone to report back to me about this second article, however, which states that women also have orgasms while they work out at the gym. They call it a "coregasm."

I can point to a herd of fat women everywhere - myself included - who will debunk this theory all the way to hell and back while riding on a horse made entirely of cellulite. Don't you think if we were getting ORGASMS at the gym, we would all be waifs? Fuck, I'd never leave the gym. They'd probably find my skeletal remains on the elliptical machine. But I'd be grinning ear to ear, and probably smoking a cigarette.

I recently went back to the gym after a four year lethargic period in which my ass got its own zip code. And I can tell you, if I was getting orgasms there, it would be a LOT less painful getting up at 5:15 a.m. and dragging my sorry aforementioned enormous butt there. I'd probably fly out of bed and skip all the way to the gym humming a little tune if I was promised a couple of good solid O's. But no ... instead I get exhaustion, misery, and have to wear a sports bra that resembles an ace bandage. Instead of relaxed and glowy, I just end up sweaty and pissed off. This is about as far from an orgasm as I can imagine - except for child birth, that is.

Am I doing it wrong? Is there some sort of machine that my gym doesn't have that makes your eyes roll back in your head not from exhaustion, but from passion? Or are the women in which this article refers all bringing vibrators to the gym? Because that's the only explanation that makes sense to me.

Oh wait ... there is one other explanation. This article appears in MEN'S HEALTH magazine. Figures. It's all an evil plot by men to get their women to drop a few pounds. Nice try, boys. But you should be thankful this hoax isn't true. Because if we could have orgasms at the gym, what would we need you for?