skills

the owners were watching 'napoleon dynamite' the other day. napoleon talked about how girls only like a guy with skills - bow staff skills, nunchunk skills, computer hacking skills. that got me thinking, do i have any skills? let's see.

i can fart through my nose.
i can snore while awake.
i can fall asleep in under two seconds.
i can sleep sitting up.
i can bark and burp simultaneously.
i do a great pig impression.
i can projectile vomit up to six feet.
i have been compared to a beached seal.

yes, i have skills.

ridiculous

the owners are lawyers. i'm not sure what the guy really does, but evaluating legal arguments seems to be a part of it. this argument is ridiculous, that argument is ridiculous, he says. one day, while watching me lick his foot after yoga practice, the guy said, "you're ridiculous, chunker." the woman looked on. "yeah chunker, you're ridiculous." the guy continued. "like a poorly-reasoned argument, chunker." "yeah, chunker. you're a poorly reasoned argument." this from the woman. ridiculous.

unrelatedly, i like to sleep with underwear on my head.

"pig in the snow!"

the guy yelled as i began to tramp through a sea of white stuff. at first i was confused. it's falling from the sky, but it's not rain, and it looks like i would be able to walk on it, but instead i sink in. i continued my waddle.

"pig in the snow!" the woman yelled.

"pig in the snow!" the guy repeated, and kicked some snow in my face.

i ate it. mmmm, tastes like cold water.

i like cold water. the guy kicked more snow in my face. i ate that too.

my realization deepened. i could eat it all! i was standing in a white sea of edible stuff.

i continued to eat. and eat. and eat. and eat. then i crapped on my leg and the woman cleaned it up.

i am an ottoman and an old south korean man.

i am an ottoman and an old south korean man.

i waddled into a 99 cent store with the woman. the guy behind the counter was south korean. apparently the woman loves south koreans.

"do you know park young seok?" she asked him.
"park young seok VERY famous! he korean hero. how you know park young seok?" he asked her.
"i am friends with park young seok. my husband and i met him on mt. everest," she replied, clearly very impressed with herself.

his eyes came to rest on me.

"whoa!" he exclaimed. "you're dog have face just like mine." [editor's note: i swear he said those exact words.]

so i have a face like an old south korean man.

we went for a walk around a lake. (the owners and i, that is, not the old south korean man). a round man approached us.

"whoa! that looks like an ottoman on a leash!!" he snorted. "do you know what an ottoman looks like?" he asked the owners.

"yes, do you?" the guy retorted, graciously rising to my defense. nice work, owner.

watchpig

a pig and a seal.

apparently, i am not a pig. i am a seal. no, that's not right. i am a pig and i am a seal. or i'm a pig that looks like a seal. it's all very confusing. the owners call me new names everyday, and i can hardly keep track.

the other day, the owners came back from the store with a stuffed seal. "a seal for our pig." the woman said. as it turns out, the seal is quite comfortable, and i promptly fell asleep on it. as i dozed off, the woman's ecstatic words flittered through my fading consciousness, "pig on a seal! the pig fell asleep on the seal!"

they photograph me incessantly when i sleep. from every angle. each of these pictures was lit by a flash. and each flash disrupted my sleep. woe is me.

i sleep. the woman watches.


a completely unnecessary second photo of me doing the exact same thing:


i attempt to hide from the guy, who will not stop photographing me.


more proof, in the eyes of my owners, that i am a pig and a seal.


this is trick photography. i am not that fat.


"a blob on a seal," she says


i awaken, and resume staring at the wall.


this is my life. my ridiculous ridiculous life.

"you're a pig, chunker. a ridiculous pig," said the woman.

what is it about my ass?

why does it always seem to require cleaning?

i can swim.

the owners doubted me. "look at those stubby little legs," the guy said, "she can barely use them to walk, let alone swim." "pigs can't swim!" trumpeted the woman. "you can't swim, can you little pig?"

last week we were at the beach. a foul seagull was tormenting me. i took off after it. the vile beast floated into the air, mocking me. i pretended to give up. i buried my face in the sand to see how many grains i could get to cling to the strings of drool hanging from both sides of my mouth. all the while, i kept a wary on the eye on that feathered fiend.

sure enough, it drifted down down down until it rested comfortably on the bobbing waves several feet from the shore. i made my move and bolted for the water. soon, my paws were no longer on terra firma. i was swimming! "holy shit! the pig is swimming!" the guy exclaimed. "i can't believe it! our pig is swimming!" this from the woman. of course, the bird took flight, and i was left pathetically herking and jerking my little stumps through the water.

i didn't get the bird, but i sure impressed my owners.

"i guess pigs really can swim," said the woman as we waddled off into the sunset.

here is a picture of me and the guy at a different beach:

wrestling

i do not wrestle. but the guy wrestles with me.

it begins innocently. the other day, the owners wouldn't let me up on the couch while they were watching a movie. this bothered me, because i had plans to cover the remaining 35% of their new couch in drool. so i farted. a silent bomb. the guy blamed the woman. the woman blamed the guy. but for once, i wanted the blame. i farted again. this time, loudly. "it was the pig!" the woman trumpeted. "chunker, i'll flip you like a coin on gameday." the guy said. i did not back down. i wanted to finish my opus of slobber. i farted a third time. it was lengthy.

the wrestling began. first, he went with the full nelson:

to add insult to injury, while i was in the full nelson, the woman used a wetnap to clean the flap of skin above my nose. "you're filthy, chunker," she said.

next, he moved into some strange hold and farted on my head. i guess i deserved that.


i don't even have words to describe this move:


afterwards, i fell asleep.