Oscar, Oscar, Oscar

Your mouth is so close to your brain that they influence one another constantly — so is it any wonder that mouth muscle memory makes me turn into Oscar’s Smokehouse whenever I come down the hill from Gore Mountain?

The new Oscar’s is just as good as the pre-fire version, and if anything they have more products on display. One thing is different: the beef sticks that used to sit out in a jar are now in an enclosed case. “The health department made us do that,” said the guy behind the counter. The health department ruins everything.

Among the items I picked up was their legendarily delicious bacon, which always makes me laugh because of the smiling pig on the wrapper.

 

Some people find images of happy animals on meat products bizarre, in fact there’s a website devoted to showing their use on signs, labels and in ads. They call the animals “suicidal,” but I prefer to think of them cannibalistic. As if to say, “This is so good that I will devour my own brethren to enjoy it.” Eating your own is a taboo but, boy, that’s some good bacon (pic).

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