One of the signature lines in my outgoing email used to be:
"I would kill you and your dog for a decent BLT."
It drove my friend Attractive Nuisance batty (the nickname is some legal term - apparently, this makes lawyers squirt milk out of their noses - don't ask because I don't know). My constant reminders of the most delicious of the sandwich acronyms were undermining her resolve to eat better, according to her.
The signature is different now. She grudgingly thanked me once she realized I'd changed it, implying that while she appreciated it, DAMN, BABY, it had taken me long enough.
Well, Attractive Nuisance. I'm glad it's one less thing bringing you down. But don't think I've sold out my main man Bacon. No no no. I know you, too, deep down, are still entranced by its fatty, salty, crimson charms.
I mean, at one point, haven't we all yelled "PLEASE, PLEASE GIMME WHAT'S IN THE BAG!"?
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