the circus

ladies and gentlemen, chocolate covered bacon.

i thought i had heard of it all when i got word of fried pickles, battered mac and cheese balls, fried coffee, and fried coke. oh no. someone decided to cover fried bacon in chocolate. is it any wonder cynical bastards like myself find it simply beyond belief that the human race has survived as long as it has?

what is wrong with us?

i overheard the news of this fried dead animal confection at a bar where the clientele is comprised entirely of morbidly obese, chain smokers, who are only sober when they are hung over, and even then, it's not 100%. the lights stay off 24 hours a day, nothing ever gets cleaned, they have a shotgun hanging over the door, the bartender has less teeth than fingers, and emanates the distinct smell of cigarettes, BO, and soiled underwear, yet somehow he gets regular tail from the patrons.

this is a clientele that's 3 cocktails deep by 5 o'clock in the PM on a slow day, only listens to country, or classic rock, because they consider hip hop "nigger shit" and new rock "kill yourself music", they all have at least a pair of chronic illnesses, or afflictions, most of them are on unemployment, and should a man enter in clean clothes, and not be grunting in pain, and generally odoriferous, he's not going to get a very warm welcome. don't even try ordering a mexican beer, talking liberal politics (if you're lucky enough to find someone who even wants to talk politics at all), or biding your time by reading a newspaper, doing a crossword, or playing with a rubik's cube.

ride your bike to the bar?

able to see your genitals?

able to use your genitals?

you're probably a queer, by their standards.

and where is this utopia, you ask? where can i get me a slice of that? what dixie-fried, moonshinin', cousin fuckin', appalachian, backwoods, country bumpkin' town do i have to hitchhike to to get me some?

try the san francisco peninsula. oh, yes. it's a spectacular place to see conservatives pretend to be liberals, simply because it's trendy, and this particular dive is a haven for this scene. it was here, in this dingy dungeon full of melting melties, that i first heard the words "chocolate covered bacon" uttered. and when i glanced in the direction of the siren's song, i noticed, as she tipped a tall jack and coke to her lips with her doughy limb, that a livestrong bracelet was struggling to hang on for dear life to that very same wrist.

and let us please be honest with ourselves, people. this does not surprise, does it?

how many livestrongers have you seen living anything but strong? using a yellow bangled hand to take a drag off a marlbroro light, or scratch at their sagging gut, or pull a belt off a gin and tonic? in the heyday of the yellow rubber band, how many did you see slobbing around the state fair, horking down fried twinkies and oreos?

we convince ourselves that "supporting" a healthy cause by making a $2 donation for a trendy tchotchke negates the greasy crumbs on our shirts, or the beer breath, or the tobacco stench in our hair, or the sugar coated fried meat product in our hand.

and yet we live on, and sadly, in the big picture, we humans are living strong.

this, my friends, is the epitome of surviving darwinism.

epilogue:

it bears pointing out, that while googling images for this post, "pig slaughter", "livestrong", "bar fly", "chain smoker", and "beer helmet" all eventually led me to pictures of naked women sucking cock. we are really on the right path here, people. i can just feel it.