I collect small stuffed pigs.
This began, as most collections do, in college, when I was looking at my dresser and realized that I had three small stuffed pigs that people had given me. Thus, a "collection," if you will. In college, you have alot of time to sit and stare and think about crap that probably is not worth thinking about. I started thinking, "Hey, they are a gang." No, not just a gang. A posse! The Pork Posse.
Now what does a Pork Posse do? So I sat around and thought about that for a long time (I was an art major-- lots of time.) Well, obviously, if you are part of a posse, you cause trouble. Thus, the infamous Pork Posse was born. They harrassed my apartment-mate's little rat lovie toy that she had had since childhood. She'd come home to find her beloved Mousie being fried in a skillet, or drinking beer with that carousing posse in the bathroom. She really started to get pissed off after awhile.
The thing about collections is that once people figure out that you have a collection, they start wanting to contribute. Before long, I was swimming in small stuffed pigs. I probably have fifty now. They hang out in a big Rubbermaid tub when they aren't out carousing. Although most are pink, they are integrated. I have a black pig or two in the mix. One is a Christian pig, picked up at a Christian camp that I worked at. He's been trying to convert the others, but as I said earlier, they are a rowdy bunch, not prone to giving up their ways. One pig is very skinny, and some of the others have been considering an intervention concerning her obvious anorexia. One other pig has very long legs and has been dubbed the nickname, "The Long Arms of the Law." He gets after the others when things get a little too wild. I have a little bear who is wearing a pig outfit. The group is not too bright and have yet to figure out that there is an imposter in their midst. And then there is Napoleon. He is actually a "Babe" toy that I retrieved from a McDonald's Happy Meal. He is the ruthless tyrant of the bunch. He leads his troops with a brutal hoof. I am convinced that if he were removed, the rest would probably turn from their shady doings. But please. There is no removing of Napoleon.
Although most people have given up contributing to the Pork Posse, my mother still delights in bringing new ones to me. The latest one was wearing a blue "Spam" shirt that she got at the Spam museum somewhere in Minnesota. I say that I don't need any more of them, but I secretly love getting new ones. And every pig that I see in a store, I am instinctively drawn to, even though I forget why after awhile. My husband just rolls his eyes, and says, "You don't need that."
I know. At least, Mom will still get it for me.
This began, as most collections do, in college, when I was looking at my dresser and realized that I had three small stuffed pigs that people had given me. Thus, a "collection," if you will. In college, you have alot of time to sit and stare and think about crap that probably is not worth thinking about. I started thinking, "Hey, they are a gang." No, not just a gang. A posse! The Pork Posse.
Now what does a Pork Posse do? So I sat around and thought about that for a long time (I was an art major-- lots of time.) Well, obviously, if you are part of a posse, you cause trouble. Thus, the infamous Pork Posse was born. They harrassed my apartment-mate's little rat lovie toy that she had had since childhood. She'd come home to find her beloved Mousie being fried in a skillet, or drinking beer with that carousing posse in the bathroom. She really started to get pissed off after awhile.
The thing about collections is that once people figure out that you have a collection, they start wanting to contribute. Before long, I was swimming in small stuffed pigs. I probably have fifty now. They hang out in a big Rubbermaid tub when they aren't out carousing. Although most are pink, they are integrated. I have a black pig or two in the mix. One is a Christian pig, picked up at a Christian camp that I worked at. He's been trying to convert the others, but as I said earlier, they are a rowdy bunch, not prone to giving up their ways. One pig is very skinny, and some of the others have been considering an intervention concerning her obvious anorexia. One other pig has very long legs and has been dubbed the nickname, "The Long Arms of the Law." He gets after the others when things get a little too wild. I have a little bear who is wearing a pig outfit. The group is not too bright and have yet to figure out that there is an imposter in their midst. And then there is Napoleon. He is actually a "Babe" toy that I retrieved from a McDonald's Happy Meal. He is the ruthless tyrant of the bunch. He leads his troops with a brutal hoof. I am convinced that if he were removed, the rest would probably turn from their shady doings. But please. There is no removing of Napoleon.
Although most people have given up contributing to the Pork Posse, my mother still delights in bringing new ones to me. The latest one was wearing a blue "Spam" shirt that she got at the Spam museum somewhere in Minnesota. I say that I don't need any more of them, but I secretly love getting new ones. And every pig that I see in a store, I am instinctively drawn to, even though I forget why after awhile. My husband just rolls his eyes, and says, "You don't need that."
I know. At least, Mom will still get it for me.
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