pork skin whisky rainy day blues

Soundtrack for the following entry: Gram Parson's Grievous Angel. This is an album that has been terribly overlooked. As far as I'm concerned it's the best country album ever recorded. But what the hell do I know?! Shit fire, I'm drunk on bourbon and fat off of Tom's BBQ Pork Skins.

I am ashamed of myself and I am ashamed of my best intentions with regards towards Gravy Days. But that being said, let me tell you that some people turn their noses up at the thought of eating pork skins and to them I say all the better for me, that's just more pork skins to eat for the rest of us. Thank you lord for the pig that you gave to us to sacrifice and eat the shit out of.

Pork skins and other odd pork products were always the norm for me growing up in the south. I can't remember a convenience store that didn't have a gallon jug of pickled pig's feet at the front counter; it was usually among an array of other jars containing all sorts of cured sausages and hot links. Pork skins were more common to me than potato chips. The first time I ever had the chance to try fresh ones was at one of the weekly flea markets held on the outskirts of Greensboro. These country people had a cauldron of boiling oil set up and they were heaping baskets of pork skins into the furious gyre of lard. Once the skins were sufficiently crunchy and fried they were tossed with cayenne pepper and salt and portioned out into paper sleeves. I am sure some people had some heart attacks later in the day, but damn those pork skins were the best I ever had.

And as far as the whisky goes.......sheeeeeet.