the not-at-all-unforseen downside of cooking three pounds of bacon

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  1. I see what you did there, and I’m against it.

    Of course, I’m against just about everything these days.

    I still like kittehs. This morning. We’ll just have to wait and see what the afternoon may bring.

    Comment by Hog Whitman — November 18, 2012 @ 9:54 am

  2. I would have a stampede in my kitchen!

    Comment by Melissa In Texas — November 18, 2012 @ 10:11 am

  3. ^ Can ya imagine the scene at Headmissy’s house?

    Corgilanche.

    Comment by apotheosis — November 18, 2012 @ 10:14 am

  4. “Adore”

    Comment by SondraK, Queen of my domain — November 18, 2012 @ 10:15 am

  5. weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-nerrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Comment by Claire: rebellious pink pig with car keys - and a *cause* — November 18, 2012 @ 11:23 am

  6. Making the leap for the counter?

    Comment by mech — November 18, 2012 @ 12:02 pm

  7. Dave Barry had a thing about his dog, a counter, a roast and a “shrine” that endured for eternity…

    Comment by SondraK, Queen of my domain — November 18, 2012 @ 12:16 pm

  8. Then, there are the *downwind neighbors* visits that are inevitable!!!

    Comment by Colonel Jerry USMC — November 18, 2012 @ 12:18 pm

  9. It was a piece of turkey…
    …the house contains the most wondrous thing in the world: the kitchen counter. One time a piece of turkey fell off of it. The dogs still regularly visit the spot where it landed, in case it shows up again. There’s an invisible Dog Historic Marker there…

    Comment by SondraK, Queen of my domain — November 18, 2012 @ 12:19 pm

  10. You’re just dang lucky I couldn’t smell it.
    Dogs can’t compete with me since I extended the 10-second rule to 30-min for bacon.

    So,
    any Muslim neighbors complain?

    Comment by DougM (Well, thaaat sucked!) — November 18, 2012 @ 12:54 pm

  11. Roy Hobbs could just about throw a baseball hard enough to hit my nearest neighbors, so no unannounced visits.

    No mooslims, either.

    Comment by apotheosis — November 18, 2012 @ 1:07 pm

  12. This one time, Bruiser (who was as tall as a house), couldn’t wait for us to finish our Sunday dinner and then get his delicious treats, and lots of them. No, he decided to go into the kitchen and help himself to the about 3 lbs. of roast beef that was still sitting on the kitchen counter. He didn’t have to jump anywhere to get it. He just put his face up there and grabbed it.

    I could hear this thing that sounded like a fight going on, all the way from the dining room, so I went to check it out.

    There he was, and there was what was left of the roast beef, on the floor of the kitchen. I wanted to yell and scream at him and hit him, and stuff, but it’s really hard to do that when you’re already doubled-over in laughter.

    So I took the chunk of beef away from him, and shook my finger at him saying, “Bad boy! Bad boy!”, but I think even he knew that my heart wasn’t in it.

    The next day, the electric company came over to upgrade and replace my tri-plex service wires, again, after melting them twice before with my industrial strength indoor marijuana farm. As far as they knew, I was just a mad scientist working on ‘experimental’ ceramics for the space and automotive industries, and I had several high-powered kilns down in the barn.

    I made some roast beef sammiches for them.

    Photobucket

    Comment by Hog Whitman — November 18, 2012 @ 1:44 pm

  13. I made some roast beef sammiches for them.

    “Wow, this is extra juicy, what’s yer secret?”

    Comment by apotheosis — November 18, 2012 @ 1:47 pm

  14. We adopted my Mother’s cat when she passed away and he would wait very patiently at the stove whenever I cooked bacon. He wanted 1/2 piece, no more, no less and then he was happy and went away.

    Comment by TimO — November 18, 2012 @ 2:41 pm

  15. BTW: I should probably mention that that was in 1982, in Canada, so I wasn’t really breaking any of the laws here.

    But I did inhale. So there.

    Comment by Hog Whitman — November 18, 2012 @ 2:50 pm

  16. Looks more like sausage.

    Comment by SteveHGraham — November 18, 2012 @ 3:00 pm

  17. Similar story in Beeville, Texas. Buddy flight instructor and wife invited us over for cornish hen dinner. Six of us. His wife had the cornish hens already laid out on our plates when we arrived. Buddy flight instructor had 2 bird dogs. All arrive, remove coats, shoot the shit and then invited into dining room.

    Two bird dogs sheepishly grinning like possums eatin briars, and you know what boys an girls, all them plates was as shiny as a diamond in a goat`s ass!!!!!!!!

    Comment by Colonel Jerry USMC — November 18, 2012 @ 6:44 pm

  18. Steve ( 16 ) HA!

    Took me a couple years to get used to being able to just get up from the dinner table and not have to clear it right away after having a waist tall/110 pound coon hound and downsizing to Corgis….

    Comment by SondraK, Queen of my domain — November 18, 2012 @ 8:09 pm

  19. The weenerz looking in awe of your freaking gorgeous cabinetry.

    They’d look perfect at The Asylum.

    *droolz*

    Comment by SondraK, Queen of my domain — November 18, 2012 @ 8:32 pm

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