You’re going to die anyway…


so you might as well eat fried chicken! Well, my fellow fatty, you went and did it. After 214 Friday morning chats over hashbrowns, coffee, and syrupy stuffs; after countless hours of “working from home” and enjoying beer on the front patio at Sweet Betty Blue; after hundreds of blog posts about food, fat, and the fucking 520 bridge—you’ve left me.

It’s rough. Really shitballs without you. You missed this whole thing with Paula Deen, SCOTUS doing some great stuff, Wendy Davis filibustering for 12 hours, and you’re going to miss free Slurpees on July 11th. But we’re all going to put on our big girl panties and say good-bye. As I write this, the ice cream man is driving through the neighborhood. They’re playing our song, kid, so I’m going to take it as some sort of non-religious, non-divine, maybe-ghosty (c’mon—I’m allowed to believe for a hot minute) sign that you’re stoked about this, too.

Listen up, because here’s how this is all going to go down:

  • Saturday, July 20th, 2013 at 3pm, and well into the evening, we’re all going to get together at
  • Tracey & John’s house to celebrate
  • Lisa’s life the only way I know how to celebrate anything with you:
  • Food. Inspired by Fatty Chow.
  • We will serve ribs inspired by this Fatty Chow post and mac ‘n’ cheese, inspired by the four-part Fatty Chow series.
  • Beer and liquor will flow. Homemade peach-infused vodka inspired by this Fatty Chow gem will take center stage for our signature cocktail.
  • If your friends want to bring some grub, they’ll bring something inspired by Fatty Chow! There are plenty of posts to choose from, and at least 1093810247102380 about cupcakes alone, as well as several bacon-related ramblings.

It’s going to be an open house, stop-by-have-a-drink, drop-over-eat-some-food, see-some-people-we-haven’t-seen-in-awhile, try-not-to-be-too-sad, party.  And that’s how we’re gonna do it.

Let Tracey know if you can make it:


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