i like to tell myself that i’m pretty bad ass. and by bad ass i mean let’s bake cupcakes on a friday night.
i know, bad ass right?
so i did. i made cupcakes. the champagne ones. and it was mainly like one bottle of champagne for the cupcakes and one bottle for me.
and then i started thinking about bacon and about how much i loved it. and then i found myself frying a pound of bacon at 8PM on friday. and then thinking about all the ways i could add them to my cupcakes. and then shitler started being a real douche about bacon. going so far as to claim that it’s the least flavorful of all the breakfast foods. so i decided to just go for it and make the bacon cupcakes and make shitler eat crow when everyone that i made eat them loved them.
yes. it happened. and it was glorious.
except shitler still wouldn’t try one because he said that he refused to become part of the fad that dictates that “bacon makes everything better (we all know it’s not a fad. it’s a fucking fact).”
even when everyone that tried one loved them.
and that the bacon cupcakes got snapped up quicker than the regular ones.
so still, we are at odds over the merits of bacon. and i couldn’t help but think that he really need to be brought down a peg or four.
and then it happened. the very next day. like i’m talking karma gift-wrapped a present for me and the card that went along with it read “this is for all the abuse you and bacon have had to suffer at the hands of shitler.”
a bird shit on shitler.
and then all was right in the world.
because it doesn’t really get much better than that.
oh, it does. because shitler hosed off the bird shit like this: