The Pig Tales, Episode One

Today, I hopped in the back of my friend Ruth's car, for more than one reason. Firstly, I hadn't seen her in AGES (she's the year above me and has therefore left school) and secondly, there was the promise of meeting Pip, who I was told was rather cute and certainly a sight to behold.

Now, you may have guessed by this point that Pip would have to be pretty interesting for me to take an afternoon away from work and revision. You'd be correct.
Pip is in fact a pig. A tiny pig. However, Pip (known to my friend as Bacon) isn't a micropig, he's merely very small because he was the runt of his litter and he's not very old. I think she said he's four days old today. I shall, at some point, have to get a picture of Pip to show you.

For clarity's sake, from now on, Pip shall be known as Bacon. Or Sausage. But probably Bacon.

The thing is, because Bacon was the runt, he was shunned by his mum, and he wasn't being fed. So Ruth adopted him, so to speak. He lives in the family's house. You can all laugh at this point, because as I said, Bacon's not a micropig, and by next week he should be double the size he is now. If I were to give a reference for you, today he was about twenty to thirty centimetres long, fifteen centimetres wide, and twenty centimetres high. And adorable. Adorable on a surprisingly large scale considering how small he is.

Drawbacks...
There are four drawbacks with owning a pig that I can see. Firstly, it's in the house, and that means paying for its food and getting it housetrained (making it wee in the right place, or rather preventing toilet sessions on furniture and such). Secondly, it's going to grow. Squee pig becomes Big Pig. And then, only if you sell it to the circus or something, will it become Big Pig in Wig. Problematic to say the least. Thirdly, once you're attached to te pig, it's hard to eat it. From an adult pig of average size, you can get up to three hundred sausages. However, once the seven-year old and eight-year old of the household have named it, it's more of a pet than a meal. To quote Russell Howard, "Aww, he's cute... But he looks tasty". Cute and delicious doesn't bode well in that order for children. They will be horrified to find their precious family pet has been turned into bangers and mash. Or rashers. Or anything with pork.
Fourthly, that thing ain't gonna be light. And it certainly won't be obedient. What about those teeth? Bacon bit me today, and as a result was nearly turned into his namesake. However, if he does bite one of us badly, at least we can say it's fair and square to eat him.

I shall report back in around a week's time to give word of new swine developments!

Question: is it wrong to feed a pig sausages if you explain (in PigSpeak first, of course) that it's in fact that pig's friend or family?

Question number two: what's the best name for a pig you may one day eat? Bacon? Sausages? Buttie? Porky Delicious? Spiderpig? Harry Plopper? If there are any others, you name them.

Doughnuts and dunces

I went to a friend's party yesterday (hi, Ruth, I know you're reading this :D ) and it was brilliant! Being ever the original lady, Ruth decided the theme should be that we all go dressed as something beginning with "R"- I think this somehow indirectly turned out to be an indirect ploy to cause me and my friend Jack (Ruth's significant nutter) as much humiliation as possible. I went as a Racer (full leathers, including bodysuit and gloves) and Jack went as Ruth. Hello, Jack, you look wonderful in a skirt and luminous pink tights.
Jack proceeded to lock himself in the toilet. The lock broke. I fell about laughing at the prospect of the only guy at the party actually being stuck in a bathroom... Wearing girls' clothes. It was great. We have pictures of his horrified face after they had to get a circular saw to cut through the lock to get him out. AMAZING pictures. A scared guy in a skirt! Priceless.

Anyway, as I said, the theme was R. I was a Racer, with Runner underneath for when it got hot (full leathers, cut me some slack!). Jack had socks stuffed down his top. Other friends came as Russians, Rock Stars, Roger Federer, a Rancher, a Red Indian, Robin Hood, Retro (this was Ruth improvising after her foil robot attempt was, er, foiled) and a Rabbit. Suffice to say it was great. There were pigs... And sausages, prompting my possibly bastardy comment of "They're so cute! But soooooo tasty..."

I was persuaded by the others to stay over. Spare sleeping bag, check. Comfyness, check.

Waking up at seven thirty this morning and realising, to my great detriment (and everyone else's joy), that I would be forced to wear the full leather suit all day, was not so fun. Funny, yes. But when you have four gruelling hours of school to battle through, it's not so wonderful. Jack said he was expecting a funny blog. Helloooo! I've been fucking asked every five minutes, "VICKY?! YOU ride a motorbike?!". At which point, my answer was always simply the words, "Costume party, no change of clothes, mandatory school". Walking into German this morning was priceless, Herr N. laughed. Thankfully there are only four people in my class today so not so bad. But yeah, I went home at lunch (no bunking, lessons had thankfully finished by then) and peeled off what has to be one of the worst school outfits I have EVER worn.

I have only two things to say: One, we need a mandatory day where everyone comes in dressed as something beginning with the same first letter as their name, and two, having Eton Mess for breakfast is AWESOME!

Happy reading, folks!