A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
It is real bacon. Have you not seen it? We love it. So quick and easy and no mess.
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
No different. One is cooked and ready to eat. One is not.
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
Well. I have had bacon fresh from the pig and from the store shelf.
Bacon is bacon.
The only difference is the amount of smoke added.
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
Ok. I am not going to argue bacon. It's ridiculous.
I will say that hog jowl bacon is better than belly bacon. But I really doubt very many of you would eat it.
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
Home grown bacon is the bomb. We used to butcher our own. There is no comparison. Bacon from the store does taste different. I don't know why, it just does.
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I drink coffee so I don't kill you.
I quilt so I don't kill you.
Do you see a theme?
Faith isn't something that keeps bad things from happening. Faith is what helps us get through bad things when they do happen.
No different. One is cooked and ready to eat. One is not.
I use the bottom one if I need four slices of bacon for a recipe. It's quick and easy.
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“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
Are you admitting I'm right? Not all bacon is created equal!
No. I am saying different cuts of the same pig may have different or more potent flavors.
But bacon from a white pig is the same and bacon from a black pig.
Bacon from the pig in a barnyard and bacon from a pig in a massive pig farm is the same bacon.
Hog jowl bacon comes from the face of the pig.
And I am not going to continue to argue this. It's bacon. Not world politics.
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
Home grown bacon is the bomb. We used to butcher our own. There is no comparison. Bacon from the store does taste different. I don't know why, it just does.
Our bacon always tasted the same. Good.
We would get a slab of it and cut our own. Tasted the same as the bacon from the grocery store.
Sausage now. That can taste a lot different. I love a home mix. Grandpa done something to his that was just amazing. Just the right amount of heat and sage and whatever else he put in it.
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
Never could bring myself to eat the brains. Grandpa loved them. Scrambled them up with eggs. I just couldn't do it.
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
Gloucestershire Old Spot taste better than commercial pigs. But Ossabaw Island Hogs are my tasty favorite.
You're right. You are a snob.
Our pigs were pigs. They were bought at the auction. Brought home and fattened up and slaughtered in the back yard and drained and butchered right then and there.
On the first day it was below freezing and stayed that way for the day.
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A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
Neither do I. But when we picked up milk I picked up a little recipe book from the store. Guess what this month's focus is on? That's right. BACON! They did bacon wrapped strawberries, bacon wrapped potatoes, bacon wrapped peppers, and bacon wrapped chicken tenders.
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“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
I'll eat them if they're really crispy. I don't like them in casseroles with a bunch of canned soup dumped on them where they're all mushy.
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“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
I don't like mush. I don't like anything all mushed together. Like noodle casserole. If the noodles are all mushy and gummy then no. And I hate everything creamed. The only cream soups I use are in my King Ranch Chicken and green bean casserole.
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“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou
“You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I'll rise!” ― Maya Angelou