Okay, I've been way too busy to post for the last month or so, and part of why is that it's summer (more on that later, when I get the film back). Another part is just that I'm messing around with a bunch of different stuff (bicycling, velcro, new chafing solutions, etc.) and don't have a complete story to tell you yet about any of it.
Meanwhile, though, I participated in the Chubby Girl Brigade's recent Blogathon to benefit Heifer International. Participating meant joining in the delirium of a 24-hour chat in order to give Jerilyn stuff to post (and help keep her awake), though my schedule only permitted me to do so for a couple of hours -- and frankly, I was only able to do that much because of a very unscheduled bout of insomnia. Somewhere in those hours, though, I told this joke.
I first heard this joke when my boyfriend told it to me ten years ago, when we were first courting, long before I became an amputee but while I was still a militant vegan. I went out with him anyway. Draw your own conclusions.
Stop me if you've heard this...
A farmer walks into a bar with a three-legged pig. The bartender asks, "How come that pig's missing a leg?"
"Well," says the farmer, "there was a big fire. My house burned right down to the ground. My family and I all would have burned up with it if this pig hadn't come into the flaming, smoke-filled house and dragged each of us out, one by one."
"Wow," says the bartender, respectfully.
"Yep," says the farmer, "and you just don't eat a pig like that all at once."
Comments