For the love of all that's bacon

Before I had my funky little allergy, I was what you might call a verging vegetarian. I ate very little meat, and when I did it was fish or chicken. I hated red meat. Anything with too rich a flavor, such as wild game, was repulsive.

I just knew that meat hurt my stomach. In retrospect, I see it was the half-loaf of bread I choked down with dinner that was ripping my intestines apart. Be thankful for that bit of knowledge.

Since last year, not only have I grown to love meat, it is a true cornerstone of my diet. One meat in particular has blossomed in the cockles of my heart: bacon.

When not smothered in syrup overflow from surrounding pancakes, bacon is the stuff of gods. And, my sister taught me how to cook it in the oven so it doesn't stink up the house. Since that day, bacon is a constant on my grocery list.

Now I know what you're thinking: no one should eat that much bacon. But when it's not paired with the bread on your BLT, you can actually eat more of it.

So imagine my chagrin when I saw an article this weekend titled, Against Bacon. I was prepared to be aghast!

And then one little quote saved the day. "There's a reason you've allowed yourself to be bacon-brainwashed. His name is George W. Bush. You ran to bacon when he took office and started tappipng your phone line. You found bacon comforting and distracting. Before you knew it you were starting blogs called Bacon Freak and the Bacon Show."

Proving once again that Bush is to blame for everything.