Not Chosen, Just Posin'

I just got a job with a Jewish magazine. I'm not Jewish. They think I am.


Wednesday, January 17, 2007

BaconJew—weighed down by the guilt of being called, well, BaconJew—opted to give turkey bacon a whirl. The verdict?

“Tastes like smoked deli meat.”
“It doesn’t even leave grease in the pan.”
“It’s pre-cooked. I could eat it straight out of the package.”
“It’s painted with food coloring so that it looks like bacon.”


BaconJew
has ultimately concluded that because he’s Russian, he is not held to the same standards as his counterparts. Russians love their pork, evidently.

(To those of you who are wondering who the hell BaconJew is—he’s the one who, many months ago, declared that he still remembers his bris since he was six when he had it. He had to wait until he migrated here from Russia to be circumcised).


As you can imagine, OrthoJew does not agree with BaconJew and she wasn't afraid to say as much. Do I really need to tell you how the lecture went?

It, just like this post, was not very interesting.

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