When Ashley sent me this photo, my first thought was whoever dropped a deuce on your napkin really needs to go to the hospital. She and her parents were at day one of “The Super Bowl of Bridal Shows” on Saturday and I simply could not fit whatever I was seeing into that context. The other thing that didn’t fit was my scatological impression of the image and the message that accompanied it: “Check this out!!!”
See, I’m a boy. One time I was walking to work and I found a perfectly coiled dog-turd on the ground. It followed the Golden Ratio just as well as any conch you’ve ever seen. And the first thing I did when I got to work was tell everyone about it. Everyone. Cook, customers, waitress. Because I’m a boy. And poop is funny.
One of Ashley’s better traits is that she is not a boy. She rather smartly avoids anything scatological or really even anything bathroom-related at all. So it didn’t make sense that she’d a) send me a picture of poop, and b) use three exclamation points.
I could only think of two things that might merit such extravagant punctuation: Chocolate. And bacon.
“What the hell is that? It looks like chocolate bacon?” I assumed at this point that someone had made chocolate to look like bacon. You see, I’m not like the rest of the world: I think bacon is gross. It tastes like fat and grease and burnt meat. So the appeal of chocolate made to look like bacon (and poop) was low for me. In fact, I would me more inclined to each chocolate make to look like poop because it would at least be funny.
But I wasn’t quite right: “It IS chocolate covered bacon!!!!”
Which is one of the grossest things I can think of. I like chocolate all well and good when it’s in its standard M&Ms form, or with peanut butter in almost any form. I like Hershey’s bars and Nestle Crunch, sure. I like chocolate cake and chocolate-chip cookies.
But chocolate-covered anything is an abomination. Forget my aversion to food-suspended-within-other-food, if chocolate-covered bacon were meant to exist in this universe, pigs would look more like Oopma Loompas.
She brought a few strips home, but I had to cover them up because every time I walked past them I kind of gagged a little bit. And wondered who the hell just crapped on my counter. Curiosity eventually won out, though. And while I recognize that the following could get me permanently banned from the internets, I’m telling you right now that chocolate-covered bacon is about the grossest thing I’ve ever eaten.
It tastes like what it looks like. Through and through.