Graffiti the Ghost

The duckpig strikes back

I finally found something compelling enough to get my ass off the blog couch and onto the blogfloor. Duck bacon. DUCK flipping BACON, people. According to the fine folks at the Cincinnati Post, duck bacon is indeed, as claimed by the manufacturer, half the fat of bacon and twice the flavor. How, I ask you, HOW can anything have twice the flavor of bacon? Is that physically possible? I'm going to order some and will report back to you on this, because if it's true, then, holy shit!

And if that's not enough, they also have duck prosciutto, which I will also be ordering, since I'm a firm believer that prosciutto is the new bacon.

The Cincy Post also recommends a "DLT" (duck, lettuce & tomato), which sounds fascinatingly delicious.

And while we're on the topic of pigs, B-b-b-brian sent me this funny correspondence which explains why we don't drink pig milk, amongst many other interesting & informative bits of correspondence with various corporations.

One of these days I still plan to get around to my Mardi Gras post...there's just so much to say so I've been avoiding it. But also writing it in my head at the same time. So it'll happen eventually. To tide you over, here's a little nugget: on the first night in New Orleans, Jeffro and I rode bikes around to various bars in the Faubourg Marigny neighborhood with our lovely host, Nelson. We got completely hammered and while riding home in the rain, both Jeffro and I fell off our bikes. In fact, Jeffro fell off several times. At one point, we believe after getting his pants caught in his bike chain, he did a face plant and ended up with blood all over his face. We raced back to Nelson's house and started wiping rubbing alcohol directly onto Jeffro's face, while he sat there, unflinching, saying "Why were we riding so fast? Why are you wiping my face?" Finally we had him get up & look in the mirror - he had no idea he had blood streaming down his face.

The funny thing is (if Jeffro falling off a bike isn't funny enough for you), Jeffro was then recognized over the rest of the weekend, in every part of the city, by half a dozen people who had heard the story, put it together with the sight of an afro'ed white boy with bloody scars all over his face, and just ran up to him yelling "Jeffro! You fell off the bike!" One of them had even helped Jeffro get his pants out of the bike chain that night, and turned out to be a friend of our NOLA hostess, Michelle. Drunken crackhead news apparently travels very fast in NOLA. (Picture to follow - I need to upload it from teh home computer).

posted by stefbot @ 10:57 AM