hoozah!
dear beloved reader,
a confessional. a few days ago, when i told you the pig stork dropped off ten new piglets—well—i lied. we actually got eleven. as we were unloading them from the pig crate:
one of them ran away. we were passing the piglets—by the hind legs, from the crate, off the truck, and into the paddock—when all of a sudden, in a baby pink flash, piglet number eleven roundhouse kicked sous chef francois to his back, triple lindied over the tailgate of our truck, and dashed off into the enchanted woods that lay just beyond pork chop hill.