Sex, Drugs and Bacon Rolls

Bacon

Coyote likes it hot and juicy in the studio.  I like it quick and saucy when I'm out and about.

During our journeys around Wales we often spot things that make us ponder.  We might pause in a lay-by to stretch our legs and see a little bird pecking the ground that makes us question the importance of material possessions.  It might happen that we take a wrong turn and see a beautiful derelict church that brings us to think about the impact of religion on today's modern society.  Or we could stop in some grotty industrial estate in the arse-end of nowhere for a fag and see a sign that reminds us how much we love bacon.

Bacon.  All sizzling and aromatic.  Grilled, fried or griddled; streaky or back; crispy or pink...it's marvellous.  Ketchup or HP Sauce; tasty rashers lovingly yet firmly embraced by two pieces of fresh, moist, buttered bread.  Oh yeah.  It's practically pornographic.  Porkographic, if you will.

Pigs are stout,

pigs are kind;

pigs are seldom clean.

Snout before

and tail behind...

and bacon in between.

I'm off for a cold shower.  And a bacon butty.  Phwoar.