Taking Bacon Just a Bit Too Far

It’s… well, just click through to see. May be not safe for work, although there’s no nudity, just wrongness.

28 Comments on “Taking Bacon Just a Bit Too Far”

  1. Salty humps, indeed. And yes, wrong. Food and body parts do not mix, IMHO.

    Though bodyshots… now that’s a different story.

  2. Er, ah… hmmm.

    I mean, I know it’s wrong. Obviously. And yet, it speaks to me. I guess the thought experiment worked.

  3. 1. I know it wouldn’t work, but I’d appreciate it much better if the bacon wasn’t raw. I like mine pretty crispy, thank you very much.

    2. I know for sure I never imagined anything that couold put me off both bacon and boobs.

    Yes, udderly wrong.

  4. Too far, indeed. But I’m ashamed to say I can now, in fact, imagine bacon being taken a bit further still.

  5. Well there’s my two favorite things in the world combined (rightly) in that picture. Question: is it turkey bacon? That would make it three of my favorite things.
    Yum yum slurp munch. [slap]

  6. And you’re the one telling us to lay of the whole bacon thing, John? Somehow it rings hollow now. [smirks]

    Oh, and thank you so very much Jeff. I had blocked any further thoughts until you had to go and make it a challenge. And right before bed too, dammit.

  7. You know, it’s a good look for her. She has nice, firm, non-droopy breasts, of a reasonable size, so as to not use four pounds of bacon to achieve the look.

    She probably would get more support with cooked product, and you’d have less of a food poisoning issue with cooked….

    Egad, now I’m hearing comments like “would you like some sausage with that bacon?”, so I’ll be going away now.

  8. Heh. Of course, this comes right after I tried my boss’s new vodka infusion at our weekly GURPS session.

    Bacon. Infused. Vodka.

    Boss likes it, another guy loves it, I… tried it simply to say I had. I thought it was, as expected, pretty darn bad.

  9. I thought about that, Tania, but the adhesive qualities of the raw bacon are still greater than using cooked bacon, wouldn’t you say? Therefore, if we have to measure what miniscule support the, uh, apparatus has (and my initial thought was, raw bacon? But why? It’s a lousy support!), I think one (or both!) would get more from raw rather than cooked product, assuming no addition of other material.

    Another thought is that, while possibly not containing as many food-poisoning elements in the cooked version as the uncooked, crispy strips might additionally cause abrasions to the skin during movement, which would not be a desired result.

    Lastly, notice that the lady in question has to be inclined in order to present a coherent model? This can only ever be a static display. Very inefficient.

    Back to comments from the males of the thread…

  10. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, puppy wrangler!

    Wow. This freaks me out. I’m gonna be shaky all day now.

  11. Regarding the support issue, I think it could be overcome if we could devise a “sheet” type bacon. We must look to science and reason for the answer to this pressing concern.

  12. I can bring home the bacon…dada dada…and fry it up in a pan…da da. And never let you forget you’re a man.

    Sigh. Now I know the inspiration for that perfume.

  13. If I showed this to my wife she’d immediately suggest that we try a bacon codpiece, using the vegan bacon that’s in the freezer. This is why I only show my wife this site when there’s a picture of a kitten.

  14. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang at the gates!

    So whence the bacon jock? You know that someone’s got to be working on that.

    It makes me all puckery to think of the horrid infection potential, though.

  15. The official founder and administrator of the

    “Things you can do with Bacon”-list

    had this comment:

    Eerrmh…………..

    /Speechless

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