America has always been on the cutting edge of technological innovation, but, as you can see from the picture above, we have out done ourselves with the Bacon Maker…

What is a Bacon Maker you ask? Why, it’s a nifty lil device that allows you to make better bacon in the microwave. Now, I don’t like to stereotype people, but it makes a fine substitute for taking the time to get to know them as individuals (it also helps solve crimes). Having said that, I think you can infer certain things about the type of people who purchase this product.

They’re probably not in the best shape.

While the bacon maker claims to reduce the fat content by 50%, I highly doubt a bacon connoisseur is all that health conscience. Anyone looking for ways to cook more bacon at a faster rate is either running a bed and breakfast, or just looking for new ways to die.

They don’t stop at bacon.

Anyone with a bacon maker probably also has a donut maker, which, in many ways, is worse. That’s like owning a funnel cake maker. The amount of sugar, flour and oil required to create such “treats” should never be stored in one’s home.

They really love their bacon.

A bacon maker isn’t an impulse purchase; it’s an answer to a bacon lover’s prayers. While it’s okay to like bacon, loving it is a cry for help. The last person I knew who sang the praises of bacon was pre-op Star Jones. Nuff said.

Alas, this is America, and we are allowed to live our lives as we see fit. But there was a time when eating out was fattening, and eating at home was a healthier choice. Now that all things greasy and carnival-like are readily available in the home, the line between fast food and home cookin’ is blurred. It’s all over when the Deep Fried Oreo maker hits the shelves.

I am the Strawboss. I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan…

There’s a lot of gab about Chris and Rihanna right now, especially since the pic of her bruised face surfaced. On the radio today, a caller lambasted the DJ for “not supporting a brotha,” and stated that Chris is guilty until proven innocent. OK, fine, this country’s judicial system has a presumption of innocence, BUT we can use the facts that we currently have to make some assumptions. First the facts:

From looking at these facts, we can make some assumptions. Here are the assumptions.

While this is not enough to convict the man in a court of law, it is more than enough to convict him in the court of public opinion. You can sing presumption of innocence ’til the cows come home, but a narcoleptic, blind man with a second grade education from a public school can solve this case between naps. That isn’t to say we need to drag the Double Mint Dancing Machine to the alley for some street justice just yet. We still need due process. But in the meantime, we can clown his punk @ss every chance we get.

I am the Strawboss. It wasn’t me.

Did I mention that I hate the cold? Well I do. I hate it. And not like “I hate Mondays,” or “I hate long lines.” I’m talking Rush Limbaugh vs President Obama hate. If I were in a burning building in the middle of winter, I’d be hard pressed to follow the firemen outside. “But it’s warmer in here!”

I’ve heard people say, “I love snow! I love the cold!” And I say WTF is wrong with you? Snow is fine on TV or in a painting, but on the road and sidewalks it’s just a plain nuisance. And in my town I get these hardcore mother tuckers talking bout, “These people don’t know how to drive in the snow…” IN THE SNOW??? Listen, Lead Foot Larry, tires are meant to touch PAVEMENT, not frozen water! Slow your death wish havin’ @ss down! Being late to work is a tardy, but death is an unexcused absence.

But you know what I hate worse than the crazy drivers , and the snow and the cold? The Wind Chill. OMG! It’s bad enough that we’re dealing with teenage temperatures. We gotta have gusts coming along to send us into the negatives. That’s like dunking on a midget, then slapping him with your sack on the way down. And how in Sam Hill can you get less than 0? Zero is nothing! How can it be colder than nothing? Then the weatherman tells you it’s 10 degrees, but it feels like 2… How is that determined? Do they send an intern outside with a thermometer?

“What’s the reading, Junebug?”
“The thermometer say 12, but I’ll be damned if it ain’t 3 degrees out in this b*tch!”

So, yeah, I hate the cold like hillbillies hate floss. Spring needs to get here. I may not make it.

I am the Strawboss. It’s cold out, but hold out, and do like I do.