I should paint Paula Deen

This is a South Troy Burger, available at the Brown Bag on 4th Street in Troy ...

Burger, bacon, peanut butter, all on a glazed donut.  I've never had one, although I should, just to see.  Certainly the question of ketchup and mustard floats around in the back of the head, but I'm not going to worry about that.

[Health alert:  I recently had a physical and was told I don't have diabetes.  If you do, don't eat this thing.]

What it really does is makes me think of Paula Deen.  Because she's built an empire on dreaming up dishes just like the South Troy Burger.  You know how I like to go on about Duke University and that it was built on the corpses of nicotine addicts?  Ditto Deen's food empire.  Except we're talking about the obese now, not smokers.

I should totally paint her ...

She's like a perkier, slightly fatter version of Angela Merkel.  And although Merkel's life is moving forward smoothly enough (or as smoothly as it can if you are the leader of a significant European country), Deen's has taken a bit of a nose dive.  In the course of about a week, the Food Channel has cancelled all three of her shows and her largest sponsor, Smithfield Ham (if memory serves) has withdrawn its support, CVC is starting to get cold feet, and Random House is considering squashing her upcoming cook book.  The title of which is, as I understand it, "Paula Deen's New Testament: 250 Favorite Recipes, All Lightened Up."

Wow.

I won't get into the allegations against her since the whole uproar doesn't merit quite that much of my valuable attention.  But it is all about how she and her brother Bubba (allegedly) discriminate against their black employees.

Bubba?  Really?
Really.

I should paint her and drive to Savannah and sit around, drinking mint juleps and handing out Sharpies.  Instead, I think I'm going to paint Bernanke.