Go ahead, present your case. Tell me why that last piece of bacon sitting on the grease soaked paper towel should be yours. Tell me how you managed to get mom and your sister to agree that you could have it. Try to bribe me for it.
Lust all you want, but I worked for the money that bought it, I cooked it, and I’m bigger than you.
Fairness matters not when bacon is involved.
That last piece is mine.
The Swiss really don’t do bacon. It’s the thing I hate most about living here. A life without bacon is a life half-lived 😦
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You need to have a friend ship you some!
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I’m not entirely sure what customs would think about that. I get by by eating as much bacon as humanly possible, and then a bit more, every time I go back to the UK but it’s been a few months since my last visit and I’m seriously craving!
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Bacon and chocolate…….no discussion.
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Bacon is king around here. But nobody better touch it, leftovers might just be a supper ingredient!
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I’ve started making two pounds sometimes. One pound just isn’t enough, and two pounds is enough to make everyone sick.
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Leftover for salads, sandwiches, potatoes, you name it. My husband considers it the most important food group. That, and butter…
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Never stand between a man and his bacon. That’s rule number 1.
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The kids take my money, my time, my sanity . . . . . just leave me the bacon.
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