Christmas is Coming, My A$$ Is Getting Fat

The two aren’t related.  Remember correlation isn’t causation.  Wait! What was I saying?

I can’t believe that it was snowing on my way home.  I’m not ready.  The holidays are coming up way too fast. I’m starting to panic.  So much decorating and cleaning and cooking and buying and wrapping.

And just in time for Christmas, I saw the perfect gift.  Bacon candy canes. Really, check it out here.  Yes.  Bacon. I love Bacon.  So much so that I believe it deserves a capital b.  However…. I can’t even….it’s just wrong.  I have had Bacon-topped french toast cupcakes, Bacon-coated chocolate bar dessert, Chocolate-covered bacon. Bacon.  Bacon and Bacon.  Bacon, Bacon, syrup and Bacon.  Bacon, Bacon, Bacon, eggs, and Bacon.  Oops, sorry, wrong skit.

Anyway, Bacon candy canes are in the same realm as Baconaisse.  And that realm is wrong.  Bacon candy canes are a smirch on the Bacon flavor/name/reputation. The makers are bad, bad boys and girls and should have to sit in time out.

Total tangent… my husband made the best drink, Cherry Coconut Cake.  Pinnacle Cake Vodka, Coconut Rum, and Dark Cherry Juice and Diet Sierra Mist Cranberry Splash (equal parts of the alcohols and juice and 4 parts of the soda).  Enough of these and I won’t care how big my butt gets. I don’t have to see it.


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