Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for July 25, 2018

porker pie’s in the pig sty

I’ve always had a problem distinguishing between oinking and overoinking. Where do you try the oinking line?

The Mother Monster is Touring Complete. The tale is short, and twisted. Devil! Get thee behind me!

Future bacon. Oink away.

The capitalist in me (a minor character, to be sure, seldom bold enough to raise his voice) sees several silk sacks in the sty.

oinking oinkers always a oinkable oinkful lot.

Hungry hogs eat farmer.

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/hungry-hogs-eat-oregon-farmer-article-1.1172448gry hogs eat farmer.

Pigs eat two-year old. This is tragic. Child neglect.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2833098/Toddler-mauled-death-EATEN-pig-crawling-pen-animal-acted-protect-new-litter-China.html

These are not actually that unusual. My grandfather told me that hogs, given the chance, and particularly if a sow has piglets, she WILL kill and eat a person. Hogs are smart. My grandmother said that her parents had EXTREMELY STRICT rules and they lived in fear that one of the kids would wander into the pig pen. No one except my grandfather fed the pigs, and no one was allowed near the pens, especially when there were piglets around. My grandfather was very cautious, but even he had close calls. “Before you know it, a big ol’ sow could have you down. And they will eat you. I’ve known people who’ve been badly injured by their hogs. It’s no joke. Nothing to laugh about.”

My grandpa was a tobacco farmer & raised hogs on the side … when visiting the farm I once sat on top of the sty & slapped them with a tobacco stick to hear them squeal … until grandpa told me about his neighbor whose face and hands were eaten after falling into his sty with a heart attack … I then rode away on my imaginary horsey-stick … ahhh, beer wishes and bacon dreams ….

Ole Ms. Burritt had a strip, E-I-E-I- so lame, and in this strip she had some art, E-I-E-I- so lame, with an art-fart here and an art-fart there, here a fart, there a fart, everywhere an art-fart, E-I-E-I- so lame, and in this strip she had some sesquipedalians, E-I-E-I- so lame, with a big word here and a big word there, here a phonology, there a phonology, everywhere some got-dang Phonaesthetics, E-I-E-I- SO-LAME…..

i need a sign that says, “i am not a latrine bucket”

Never buy a Fox from IKEA.

Hope for a strong pigtail wind..

Hogs and Kisses

Oinkage is my armamentarium!

A litter of Only Six? Now wonder the other sow is so diffident.

I once was visiting a site overseas, only to find a truly huge sow plopped right in the middle of it, nursing a respectable number of piglets. Given the rather remote locale, I wasn’t sure whether she and they were wild or domesticated, though the latter seemed marginally more likely solely on the basis of their appearance. I decided to move along to my next destination without disturbing her….