Pig + Toast + Pickle - Ketchup

Well. It appears that if things keep going the way they have this holiday weekend, airlines will soon advise passengers to check in eight hours before takeoff. Ya' know, because they'll perform full body cavity searches on anyone with two ears and a carry-on. And I should probably wear a diaper because I won't be allowed to use the toilet. Hard to believe that not fifteen years ago in-flight smoking was still allowed. My final thought on this matter: God be with you if you happen to be of Nigerian descent because you know people are going to be all up in your grill.

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In other news, my stomach is larger than life. The good old appetite is back and insatiable in all its glory. A half hour after every meal I get hungry all over again. I can't seem to wait it out. Like now. It's almost midnight and you know what the apartment smells like? Bacon. Because that's what I fried up. Plus toast. I even popped the last of those yummy cornichons. With the Heinz bottle poised mid-air in my hand, I stopped myself because, you know, I am not with child, and there is simply no other reasonable justification for wanting ketchup with your bacon and pickles.