Don't Eat the Pig

Some months ago I met a fellow who told me about one of his life's joys.

"I love pawk, man. I love gude pawk. I eats pawk all the time."

I could tell. He loved swine so much he was beginning to look like one. He had squinty eyes, pink skin, bristly hair, pointy ears, and upturned nose, and his teeth were jagged and elongated. Man, I really wished I could have pulled his pants off so I could see his curly tail.

I've got nothing against pigs. I think they're interesting animals. My dad used to help raise hogs. But I don't eat swine's flesh.

Why?

Because God Himself said don't eat it. Also why I don't eat catfish, shellfish, vultures, or lizards.

I'm not Jewish, I just don't dig on swine. Jules from Pulp Fiction.

Remember another famous, ultra-violent movie, Gangs of New York? Bill the Butcher said the pig was the most like a human. It's true.

I don't want to find myself becoming like another animal. And that's why I don't eat the pig.

Lighting up the grill!

I said a long time ago that sacred cows make great steaks.

So, I'm opening my own restaurant. I got my knives and butcher's blocks sharpened, the slaughterhouse is open for business!

I'll be cooking up politically incorrect pulled pork ribs. Enjoy a helping of anti-stupidity cole slaw. Plenty of liberal lunancy lemonade to go around too!

So, the grill's nice and hot. Let's dig in!