Saturday, December 5, 2009

bears: the new bacon


jk! jay cutler: not as good as bacon. 

there was an extended period of time, see, where i would receive several emails a day - many redundantly linking to the same novelty, delicious, and occasionally baffling products. sure, it was in no uncertain terms that i unabashedly hollered my love for the stuff from every corner of the www, but i had to wonder at a certain point, what on earth did my peers think of me? a fat kid at heart til the day i die, i'll sing it loud and proud but really, had i reduced myself to self-parody on wheels, glistening with the glorious rendered grease from a thousand gluttonous mornings?

never - don't you ever! - get me wrong, kids. i. love. the. bacon. because it's fucking delicious. and it tends to make almost anything it touches delicious. ever sauteed onions in bacon fat and threw some potatoes in it? no? fuck everything you're doing and try it immediately. fuck your laundry, fuck your brunch, fuck your nap. grab the closest goddamn skillet and your jar of bacon grease (what? you don't have one? grow some effing balls and start rendering and saving that shit. christ, do i have to tell you everything?), and get your education on. throw some fucking bell peppers in there. scramble some eggs and roll that mothefucker up in a tortilla and call it salvation. i digress.

i am more than the sum of my breakfasts. i am also a girl who loves bears. i love the way they scratch their backs on trees. i love the way they panic. the way the anthropomorphized ones sing and the way the real ones remind psychotic, feeble human beings that they are fucking bears. also, guh, ADORABLEZ. man oh man. bears, more so than lions, tigers, or bloodlusting terrorfish, exist in the popular imagination as both cuddlebuddies and deathmachines. fire marshalls and flesheaters. bears, much like a david lynchian hamburger, manage to embody both the mystery and fearsomeness of the dark-sided other and kitschy harmlessness. bears simultaneously signify good and evil; hunger for hugs and hunger for human meat. bears growl and roar and dress themselves up as little black rain clouds:

bears. good lord. awesome!

and somehow, some way, my peers have caught wind of the sea change in my heart. the committee dares not complain. no no, loves. together with bearhat, bacon, and some buddies, i think this is gonna be a perfectly fine season in the life of just another stupid silly girl. so keep it coming, friends. you see a bear on these nets you send it my way. you know how i appreciate you, don't you? you ought to. you should.

p.s. someone buy me this sleeping bag immediately.

gorgeous bit by chicago's most impressively bearded poet dave snyder, regarding panda bears, bamboo, lacking: bamboo poem


kyle b said...

if anyone can save poetry, it is dave snyder. if anyone can save poetry while championing rare breeds of apples grown on rare branches twine-tied and thus fused with normal branches, it is dave snyder.

Christine said...

we like to give. sometimes it's nothing more than a hope that a facebook post can be a gift.
people always want to give me things with sequins on them, for some reason. no fucking clue why.