Today I bring you a tale of a horror. A tale of misery. A tale of a man and his lack of bacon.
It all started on a beautiful Sunday morning in December of 2012. Beautiful weather, Cricket's on and my music's blasting. I suddenly thought to myself.. "There's only one way this day can get any better. Bacon." It's simple, it's delicious, it's the greatest thing ever created.. and I don't have any! I get a little pissed off at myself, but realise there's a shop two streets away and it's lunch in the Cricket anyway. I race out of the house only to find out that the shop is out of bacon. Supa IGA my ass.
I race to the next nearest shop and buy some bacon. It's $20! I'm standing there like...
And the clerk repeats, "$20", so I angrily give her the money and leave the store even more annoyed. I start feeling happy again knowing that I'm returning home to the cricket, music and bacon. I step in that front door extremely excited.
I'd only moved into this house a few weeks ago, so I hadn't used the stove. I just chuck that bacon in a pan and put it on that stove anyway. I was too excited about eating some incredible, crispy bacon to pay attention to detail. I lie down on my couch, as relaxed as you could ever be and realise the Australians aren't playing so well now, so I'm just like.
Ten minutes later, I check on the bacon. Anger starts building inside of me when I realise it's still cold! I check the manual for the oven and stove. It says turning on the oven may provide some extra heat depending how high it's turned up. What a unique, stupid design I though, turning that oven up as fast as I could. Then I hear a goddamn knock on the door.
I listen to their crap for 5 minutes, thinking it'll do no harm, but when I get back upstairs.. THE BACON'S FUCKING BURNT. I go to try to make it again, but I'm out of oil!
What a way to ruin a perfect day. Thank you and good motherfucking night.
The temple of absolute greatness you see before you was created by the genius architect known as A$AP.
Wot the fok did ye just say 2 me m8? i dropped out of newcastle primary skool im the sickest bloke ull ever meet & ive nicked ova 300 chocolate globbernaughts frum tha corner shop. im trained in street fitin' & im the strongest foker in tha entire newcastle gym. yer nothin to me but a cheeky lil bellend w/ a fit mum & fakebling. im callin me homeboys rite now preparin for a proper scrap. if ye had seen this bloody fokin mess commin ye might a' kept ya gabber from runnin. but it seems yea stupid lil diggle, innit? ima shite fury & ull drown in it m8. ur ina proper mess knob.