Yesterday during a convergence of April birthdays and near-birthdays, I attended a large party.
The Large Party was held in honor of Lexie (who has turned a bewitching 30) and somewhat less so, myself who will turn a similar age in a few days.
Attendees were numerous and varied, and ranged from dog to human, and (often) back to dog.
An entire pig was roasted.
The pig, we are told, led a happy life. He went to the best schools, enjoyed daily trotter-massage, and had a healthy skincare regimen.
Lexie’s wife Marguerite shot him between the eyes and hung him from a tree in the backyard.
He was delicious.
Wishing you good friends with sharp knives,
-Erica
Good friend? Check.
Sharp knives? Check.
Pig. …
Do I really need the pig? How about a nice fish? I already know how to gut a fish.
Frog legs?
…McDonalds?
If you can supply the meat, I can make a *mean* wok’ed stir-fry.
Pig is indeed a delicious animal. I mean, bacon! Come on! A couple of nights ago John made pork ribs wrapped in bacon for dinner. It was transcendant.
Happy 30th birthday!!!!!
Do you feel old now? Do you? Do you? :) Well… I didn’t. I don’t get carded for booze as often now, but that’s it.
I have a slightly less asupicious birthday coming up in a month (31) and while I am looking forward to a good time, I doubt that I will get a pig. :)
A bewitching 30. I just turned a cumbersome 37. How I long for those bewitching days!
Trafe! Trafe! Trafe!
Aughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!