Spam

I'm no snob. I'll do it all. Pound pitchers at Pizza Man, sip wine at Friendly's, eat gas station hot dogs, and pay 18 bucks for two seared scallops.

(Confession1 : I do like Publix more than other grocery stores. But it's really more for the selection than avoiding the gross, poor people at BiLo and places of similar ilk.)

So yeah, I'm up for anything. Even Spam. It wasn't necessarily a staple growing up, but I've eaten my fair share of it, and its cousin Treet.



(Confession 2: For some reason, my family chose not to buy Spam, but went with the off brand competition, Treet. I'll let you decide if that's a misleading name.)

I've always felt the same way about Spam that I do about bologna. I'll eat it, but I prefer it fried. Use the cool little key to open it up, wash the nasty gelatin off of it, slice it thin, toss it in a pan while you slap some (and by some I mean a wretchedly absurd amount) mayo and mustard on some bread and you've got a sandwich that rivals most.

But you start talking to people, and at the mere mention of spam, you get squished faces of repulsion and disgust when you tell them that you like it. You would have thought that you had confessed to going to that dirty Kroger with the shoddy lighting over on Forest Drive. ::Shudders at the thought::

They say things like, "You like spam? I bet you eat those little Vienna Sausages too. Well, I have. Right out of the can. But in my family, up until I got to college, I was raised to believe that it was pronounced Vyiener. Like Vye (rhymes with eye) + wiener (minus the w). Small town much?

So you can imagine my delight when I had my first taste of Turkey Bacon. We all like bacon, but it's certainly bad for you. So, with some arm twisting, I fried up some turkey bacon one Sunday morning and as it laid there in the pan, doing all the things that real bacon doesn't do when you fry it, I was thinking, "Surely these food scientists can make this taste like real bacon. I'll never know the difference." So I scoop up those little limp strips of health consciousness and take my first bite and it certainly did taste like something familiar.....but not bacon.

Like fried spam! Yes, the same fried spam that all the yuppie people I know hate. This 5 dollar pack of healthy turkey bacon tastes like an 89 cent can of heart stopping spam. Crazy. So now, I only really think of spam when I'm eating turkey bacon. Until today. When I had some of that other kind of Spam.

I used to use hotmail, I got tons of junk mail. Spam, if you will. I've been a Gmailer for a while and, with Gmail, 99.9999% of spam goes straight to my spam folder and I never see it. But today one got through. And I'm so happy it did.

From "Vernon."

And the subject is: Get Champion Dong 108

That's right, I, Mike Gregs, can get champion dong. And not just any champion dong, but champion dong 108.

I googled the word dong and didn't like what I saw, but you can probably guess. The only non-breakfast churning dong I could find, that was indeed a champ, was this guy.

(I guess "SUESKF" must be Japanese for "dong.")

But he looks a bit taller than 108, which I'm going to guess as being centimeters. So, that can't be what the email was talking about. It's gotta be the former. So, 108 centimeters, that puts you at a 42" dong, which is close to 4 feet. That's a Champion Dong in my book. Who knew the metric system would come in handy?

Spam. Nice to see you again, old pal.