There have been growing legions of non-Hispanic groups who feel they’ve been slighted in the recent immigration
Who's Gonna Make Your Pierogies Now, America?
 debate. Some have feared that with the waning of the previous administration’s Mexican Witch Hunt their hopes for Federal acknowledgment have also been lost. To address these concerns, …

Then Jacko arrived, after a long labor, and a martial maternity nurse came along to demonstrate how attach him to his mom with the mechanical roughness of a wrench to a lug nut (upon request she was promptly replaced with far nicer nurse.) She was followed by La Leche League’s Mz. Furrlip with her rolling kiosk of books, tapes, lubes, lotions, Tupperware, rubber hats…and machines with gears, nozzles, tubes, whirligigs and what appeared to be little brain transference caps straight out of a Bugs Bunny cartoon. With her whiskery, smile-free face and brusque demeanor I’d wondered why she was allowed to sell her wares in the hospital. Wasn’t breast feeding just as much about love and bonding as it was nutrition? This sour gant was far better suited for abortion protests or working an organic turnip stand. It had gotten very weird

Saturday mornings I drag my ass over to paint lines and set up goals. I also get to spray paint notes to my son on the sidelines! Interesting how things change over a lifetime. Scoot past Jack’s arrival a half decade ago and travel to Boston of fifteen years past. What was young Frankie doing at 25? Well if it was 6:30AM in April I was already getting sick of the early sunlight and thinking about finally going to bed. I might be dialing a cab for a ride back from wherever the hell I was or wondering how many people to boot out of my apartment to make it quiet enough to sleep.

 
   First off, I’d like to note how cool Wynonna Judd is for staying fat for her fat pill commercials. It saves us all from having to wonder if alli® actually works. Therefore this installment of Bacon of the Month goes out to that wonderful, Country singin’, crybaby cow.
 
   We’re …

Was it enough to know that there was a corncob in the barn while Temple Drake was getting raped? Hell no it wasn’t – did it get kicked up her snatch or did it only get whittled into a pipe as she was groped against her wishes? And Faulkner suddenly seemed too squeamish to commit to the idea that she’d been raped at all. These were to be my models for writing? The Canterbury Tales had been assigned to me three times in my various schoolin’ venues and it was comical that none of my teachers ever seemed to notice what a lewd, lowbrow piece of crap that ancient text was.

As of today I haven’t had a cigarette in 6 or 7 weeks.  Losing certainty over the time which has passed is a good thing. Far better than, say, a month ago when the slow stomp of time away from my last smoke had been excruciatingly clear and I was …

Happy Belated Evacuation Day, btw, for all you souses who took a day of rest after annihilating yourselves in homage to our patron Naomh Padraig. 
Anyhow, it’s the 19th and we’ve yet to eat any March bacon. I’d like to think my last review, a weeee bit unkind towards the owner …

   Spending the next week at the South Seas Island Resort on Captiva.  It’s a swell place – the sun rises directly across from the balcony, dolphins frolic in the channel below,  the best hotel food I’ve had since Bali, the kids are stoked and if the hotel ever gets …

Even my bacon junkie boy, Jack, grimaced and winced as though a pig had just punched him in the face, “Daddy, can we buy good bacon next time?”

This stuff goes right to the top into that Scarlett Johansson’s tongue category. It was awesome, wicked decent as they say in RI, and a hell of a nice way to start The Year in Pork. Vande Rose Farms attributes the outstanding bacon to its Iowa Duroc hogs…