Tuesday, October 14, 2003
Nevertheless, your Vegas revue career could just be beginning...
I just got back from a hogwash, and boy, was it ever fun. If you had seen the color of those hogs before we washed them, you'd swear they weren't even the same species as the clean hogs. But they were. Now, don't be turned off by the word "hog"... these fine, divine specimens of swine were as clean as they could possibly be. After we washed them, that is. Before we washed them, you can just take all your usual negative connotations of the word "hog" and apply them to these hogs, because hooooooo-doggies, was them hogs ever sloppier'n a pail o' pigeon poo. (and i say that in the most countrified of ways.)
Now, the basic mechanics of a hogwash are simple: you get yourself a pail (not of pigeon poo) and a paintbrush (preferably of penguin plumage), or in the painful absence of a paintbrush, pick a pancake (of plum or parsley, perhaps) and approach the perimeter of the pig pen. Pause, patiently pleading the pigs to permit your presence. Presently, pounce on the pig in closest proximity. Procure a pint of Pine-Sol, then pour prudently on the precariously positioned pig. Perspire. Perpetually paint the pigskin with Pine-Sol till permeated. Pack a potato in the pig's piehole, then pick up your person and park it on the patio, post-haste. Perfect.
I hope you can join me at the next hogwash. Peter Piper's going to be there.
(*update: oh man, i just had to add this... right after i wrote this post, the next two buttons i clicked were "Preview Your Post" and "Publish Your Post." i almost died.)
I just got back from a hogwash, and boy, was it ever fun. If you had seen the color of those hogs before we washed them, you'd swear they weren't even the same species as the clean hogs. But they were. Now, don't be turned off by the word "hog"... these fine, divine specimens of swine were as clean as they could possibly be. After we washed them, that is. Before we washed them, you can just take all your usual negative connotations of the word "hog" and apply them to these hogs, because hooooooo-doggies, was them hogs ever sloppier'n a pail o' pigeon poo. (and i say that in the most countrified of ways.)
Now, the basic mechanics of a hogwash are simple: you get yourself a pail (not of pigeon poo) and a paintbrush (preferably of penguin plumage), or in the painful absence of a paintbrush, pick a pancake (of plum or parsley, perhaps) and approach the perimeter of the pig pen. Pause, patiently pleading the pigs to permit your presence. Presently, pounce on the pig in closest proximity. Procure a pint of Pine-Sol, then pour prudently on the precariously positioned pig. Perspire. Perpetually paint the pigskin with Pine-Sol till permeated. Pack a potato in the pig's piehole, then pick up your person and park it on the patio, post-haste. Perfect.
I hope you can join me at the next hogwash. Peter Piper's going to be there.
(*update: oh man, i just had to add this... right after i wrote this post, the next two buttons i clicked were "Preview Your Post" and "Publish Your Post." i almost died.)
