Friday, November 24, 2006

Baby it's you I'm thinkin' of...

My entire house smells like bacon.

I cooked a solid pound of bacon this morning.

My clothes smell like bacon.

My hair smells like bacon.

My dog smells like bacon.

Bacon, bacon, everywhere.

And, really, what's wrong with that?

I freaking love bacon.

In fact, if you were to melt a slice of cheese up on that muh-fug...

It'd be heaven.

Ferreals.

Out.

Walk down to the preacher
Say, hey, I do

Happy Day After Thanksgiving: Leftover Coma.



"Don't Be Cruel"




Peace and Bacon Grease.

See ya round.