Some people call it margarine, I prefer to use it’s maiden name and call it what it is, blasphemy in a plastic tub. Margarine is made in a laboratory by mad scientists who want to poison us and take over the world. Butter  is made by cows who want to bat their big brown eyes and love us. I’m so obsessed with butter, the carved butterheads at the Minnesota State Fair held a special place in my heart – until now. Move over butterheads and make way for Able Gonzales Jr. the guy who invented deep fried butter.

At this year’s Texas State Fair, Able -- or as I like to call him, My Future Husband, will be serving up his deep fried masterpieces to the masses. My Future Spouse takes 100 percent pure butter, whips it into a fluffy cloud, freezes it, forms it into balls, surrounds the balls with dough and then plops them into a deep fryer. These balls of nirvana are served up in a cardboard boat plain (the way God intended) or flavored with garlic, grape or cherry.

Rumor has it, they taste like a mix between a biscuit or a croissant stuffed with butter. I’m not saying you shouldn’t eat healthy, but life’s too short to live on wheat grass shots alone. Every once in a while it’s fun to eat something so hard-core naughty, even Ron Jeremy would refuse to put it in his mouth. I’m grateful for Able Gonzales Jr. because he’s making a lot of people happy. However, next year when we’re married, Able and I will make deep fried butter balls together, only we’ll wrap them in -- wait for it -- bacon.

That’s why I’m grateful for Abel Gonzales Jr.