One third pound of bacon.
Three eggs, basted in the bacon grease.
Two or three pieces of toast, slathered in real butter.
One pot of coffee.
The above breakfast was standard for my grandmother, till her death at 93 (everything else failed, her heart just kept on beating.) and it is a standard for my 80-year-old brother, who has absolutely no signs of coronary disease.
I’m worried about myself, though, because I sometimes just have fresh fruit and tea.
Get a pig and eat it.
Save yourself!