A Pig Tale by Marlene Brady
Don’t go bacon my heart--I’m apologizing ahead of time (to save my own hide), but you know what a ham I am.
I’m bacon out here in the desert and got boar-ed. In the mood for some humor, I purchased one of Leslie Blackford’s pig pendants and I made some polymer clay bacon to go with it. A stroke of Ein-swine, I thought. Squealing so loud, I almost hurt myself and had to call a hambulance. Strung them on a cable necklace using Hamma Beads for spacers. Oh lardy, lardy, it looks good I thought. Hogwash you say? Wouldn’t you hock anything for this? Of kosher you would. I knew you could be suede.
So, here’s my pig tale.
I wore it on Fry-day and had an urge to watch Hamlet, but instead, I jumped in my pigup truck and went to Porkopolous. Parked in a no porking zone and almost got a porking ticket. I walked in the door and it was a hambush. I was hogging the limelight; surrounded by bacon admirers. They never sausage a thing. I’m not loin. Thank goodness there were no pigpockets. I left in a hurry, driving like a road hog.
I thought Miss Bacon's Necklace might be featured in “Porks Illustrated”, but, no -- snout their style.
Kevin Bacon wanted this necklace, but I couldn’t part with it if I fried. I know you are rooting for more, but I’m done ribbin you.