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| How's your love-life, Married Woman? |
Humor by Joan E Thurman
Remember Arnold Ziffle! Porky Pig! Piglet! Cute little Piglet! These TV pigs display pigs' true temperment. They work hard to entertain, make money for everybody but themselves, and when TV directors have overworked them to the point of exhaustion, they are slaughtered, eaten, and replaced by other, younger pigs. It falls upon women of conscience to consider how similar the ordeal of the pig in the abbatoir is to the woman married to a brute in her own kitchen and bedroom. Do not despair, o wives of shattered morale. Both domestic browbeating and bloody slichterhaus will lead to freedom with patience and strategy.
There is an afterlife for pigs as well as for humans.
If you gaze into the sky and sniff the wind with an open heart, you will see and hear them: the pigs of heaven, bringing good new to unhappily married women:
Girls, She who creates all Female Energy links us together, swine and spouse. Our death is part of your life's redemption. Listen, for goodness sake. We pigs no longer feel any pain once we've been bashed on the noggin with their sledgehammer--nothing other than our broken hearts at the continuing oppression of your womanly plight. So use us: cook us and serve a daily plenitude of our fattiest portions to your unconscionable mates. Use us this way every day! Thus can we serve you, Sisters.
Bacon
Ham
Biscuits in pork gravy
French Toast Deep fried in lard
Bacon and barbeque-ends sandwich
Onion rings deep fried in lard
Deep dish french chocolate pie a la mode, smothered in whipped cream
Of course pigs can't sing, but Joan E hears them clearly in her mind. Maybe this is because my dear sweet grandmother taught me early in life what a bad husband needs to make his wife happy again, as she bounced me on her knee singing the rudimentary love of pigs and women for one another.
The cruder your loutish husband yells,
Once pigs get their wings, they patrol the sky--cavorting with parrows in God's welkin eye, frisking and floating among the clouds. Often their peace is disturbed by the earthly curses and blows heaped upon abused women by bad husbands. The cursing and belittlement heaped on sensitive wives by boorish male mates bring back memories of the pigs' own earthly torment. These angelic pigs feel a deep empathy and will help any way they can.
2020-06-06. Girlfriends, have you ever seen, heard, and smelt a truckload of pigs on their way to the house of slaughter?--a hundred unwashed swine packed closely together, squealing and incontinent from terror, their pink noses poking through bars of a death-wagon--driven by a grinning, drooling human male who watches in his rear-view mirror laughing his head off at your reaction to the atrocious reek as he s-l-o-w-l-y passes your open convertible.
Pigs are by nature clean, but man has denied them the grooming products lavished on cows, sheep, and oil-satured ducklings. Men keep swine penned in the muck and the mire for their own guilt-relieving purposes, as in "that fat unmannerly slob was so dirty he deserves to die and be my dinner."
If you gaze into the sky and sniff the wind with an open heart, you will see and hear them: the pigs of heaven, bringing good new to unhappily married women:
Girls, She who creates all Female Energy links us together, swine and spouse. Our death is part of your life's redemption. Listen, for goodness sake. We pigs no longer feel any pain once we've been bashed on the noggin with their sledgehammer--nothing other than our broken hearts at the continuing oppression of your womanly plight. So use us: cook us and serve a daily plenitude of our fattiest portions to your unconscionable mates. Use us this way every day! Thus can we serve you, Sisters.
Feed us to him for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack him on giant bowls of pork cracklins drenched in hot sauce as he watches sports TV. He loves our flavor, and you'll love the results.
SAMPLE MENU
Breakfast
Ham
Biscuits in pork gravy
French Toast Deep fried in lard
Lunch
Onion rings deep fried in lard
Deep dish french chocolate pie a la mode, smothered in whipped cream
Snacks
Pork Cracklins
Ice cream
Barbeque sandwiches
Ice cream
Barbeque sandwiches
Dinner
More of the same--much more. You get the picture! As much pork, fat, salt and alcohol as you can persuade him to enjoy.
Of course pigs can't sing, but Joan E hears them clearly in her mind. Maybe this is because my dear sweet grandmother taught me early in life what a bad husband needs to make his wife happy again, as she bounced me on her knee singing the rudimentary love of pigs and women for one another.
The cruder your loutish husband yells,
the more you needs to feed 'em.
The pigs men martyr will make you well
When hubbie grows tubby
and takes to squealin.
and takes to squealin.
Cause there's a pig angel
in the rafters of your world
in the rafters of your world
Who'll bring back love
and happy laughter
and happy laughter
Remember our pack of sisterhood girls
and pork will save you from disaster.
Feed 'em our fattest parts often,
my darlin' little Joan E,
Soon hubby wil be lyin' dead
in his extra large coffin for thee.
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| Where's My Dinner, Bitch? |
A skillful cook can arrange an unexpected demise for an intolerable husband in a way that he enjoys, while at the same time reinforcing his delusion that he is your indomitable lord and master, and you, his cowering slave. Just keep cramming that insatiable pie-hole of his with all species of greasy pork products--roasts, chops, sausage, country ribs, bacon, luncheon meats, pickled pigs feet and more--twice and three times daily.
It is wistful irony that after years squandered on a dead-end marriage, a woman's oppression ends and her happiness begins in the shattering sledge-hammer dealt to a nameless pig, who then begins its own reign of porcine grace. What biblical scholars infer from this is that God is not a pork-eater.
It is wistful irony that after years squandered on a dead-end marriage, a woman's oppression ends and her happiness begins in the shattering sledge-hammer dealt to a nameless pig, who then begins its own reign of porcine grace. What biblical scholars infer from this is that God is not a pork-eater.
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| I hope I never get that big! A wheelbarrow! |
Just as a wife can kill her brute in a way he enjoys, heavenly pigs can kill bad marriages in ways they enjoy watching, and that bring fun to both parties. Prankster pigs love to laugh. The pair here is cracking-up over two puny ambulance drivers who can't lift their king-sized, cardiac-arrested husband into the ambulance, so heavy is he, until a neighbor comes running with his wheelbarrow. Then the three of them load the big guy in the barrow, push him up a makeshift ramp, and dump him like a load of manure into the ambulance. Off they rush him off to the wrong hospital.
Hubby Would Get a Laugh Too--if He Could
Pigs aren't selfish. They make sure the husband gets his share of fun too--although fun in a quieter way. First, the man who has been lording his stupidity over you for years gets to make that funny look . . . before he falls face-first into his platter of country ribs. Then, he has the fun of a cheap fun-eral, and he'll be happy to learn that his wife is not the spendthrift he always called her, because she got him the least expensive funeral money can buy.
At the cemetery, he has athletic fun, as he rolls merrily across the lawn because his pallbearers, unable to support his gargantuan weight, drop his cheap casket--and out rolls hubby for a final road trip! Whee! Rolling all the way down that hill into the wrong grave. A runaway corpse! Even hubby would chuckle at such a site, if only he wasn't so . . . dead.
At the cemetery, he has athletic fun, as he rolls merrily across the lawn because his pallbearers, unable to support his gargantuan weight, drop his cheap casket--and out rolls hubby for a final road trip! Whee! Rolling all the way down that hill into the wrong grave. A runaway corpse! Even hubby would chuckle at such a site, if only he wasn't so . . . dead.
But it is to the widows that pig angels bequeath the largest share of fun, first with a big-fun insurance check. Then, with the fun of feeling sexy again after the plastic surgeries she's wanted for so long--and the fun of buying a whole new wardrobe. Let's not forget the spicy hot fun of younger men and world cruises. It's okay, she's single, and the entire week she spent mourning is over. Gosh, but pigs love posh cruises. Pigs appreciate fun.
To think: all of these positive changes come from one well-fatted animal's squealing, painful death--the husband's, not the pig's. I remember Granny's knee-bouncing rhyme on that very point:
Drench it in pork fat
to puff him up big,
when he explodes,
Just blame the pig.
The Recipe
"Ham What Am Good for Every Mam" calls for a long, slow bake, so set aside plenty of time for this one.
Meat Ingredients
- One king-sized ham, uncooked and extra-fatty.
- 2 pound bacon
Basting Sauce Ingredients
- 2 sticks butter
- 1/2 cup white sugar
- 1/2 cup Rhine Wine
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon monosodium glutimate (MSG)
- 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
Honey-Mustard Crust Ingredients
- 2 cups Brown Sugar
- 5 teaspoons mustard powder
- 1/2 cup honey
- 1/2 cup bread crumbs
- 1/4 cup Port Sherry
Cooking by the Numbers
1. Paste for the Crust
In a large mixing tub, combine brown sugar, mustard powder, honey, bread-crumbs, and port wine. Blend into a paste, and set to the side to ripen.
2. Sauce for Basting
Place butter, white sugar, salt, cinnamon, and MSG in a saucepan. Heat and stir over low flame until butter melts and mixture is smooth. Add in the wine.
3. Preparation of the Martyr
Using a sharp knife, perforate the top of the ham and push the knife-blade in as deeply as possible without causing shredding. Put in one hole for every square inch of surface.
Set the ham (perforated side up) on a meat rack. Seat the meat rack in a large baking pan. Ladle the basting sauce over the top of the ham generously. Excess will collect in baking pan. Using toothpicks, attach the pound of extra-fatty bacon strips on top of ham.
Set the ham (perforated side up) on a meat rack. Seat the meat rack in a large baking pan. Ladle the basting sauce over the top of the ham generously. Excess will collect in baking pan. Using toothpicks, attach the pound of extra-fatty bacon strips on top of ham.
4. Baking
Remove upper baking rack from the oven to ensure enough room for the jumbo ham.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Compute your ham's baking time by multiplying the weight of the ham (in pounds) by 25 minutes. For example, a 13 1/2 pound ham would be computed like this: 13.5 pounds of pig, times 25 minutes per pound, equals 337.5 minutes (5 hours and 38 minutes) cooking time.
Place the ham on the lowest oven rack. Baste the ham with mixture every half-hour (30 minutes). When juices collect in baking pan, alternately baste the ham with those drippings. Bake the ham for the full time.
When baking time reaches the half-way point, remove the ham from oven, take off bacon strips and set aside. Carefully sculpt an even, thick coat of your "paste for crust" mixture over all exposed portions of the ham. When the first coat of paste has crystallized into a golden brown crust, add another coat of the paste over it. Repeat the procedure to build up a candy-like, thick crust.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Compute your ham's baking time by multiplying the weight of the ham (in pounds) by 25 minutes. For example, a 13 1/2 pound ham would be computed like this: 13.5 pounds of pig, times 25 minutes per pound, equals 337.5 minutes (5 hours and 38 minutes) cooking time.
Place the ham on the lowest oven rack. Baste the ham with mixture every half-hour (30 minutes). When juices collect in baking pan, alternately baste the ham with those drippings. Bake the ham for the full time.
When baking time reaches the half-way point, remove the ham from oven, take off bacon strips and set aside. Carefully sculpt an even, thick coat of your "paste for crust" mixture over all exposed portions of the ham. When the first coat of paste has crystallized into a golden brown crust, add another coat of the paste over it. Repeat the procedure to build up a candy-like, thick crust.
Serving
This delicious pig flesh is best served with rich side-dishes, like pasta Alfredo flavored with the leftover bacon, green beans in pure cream sauce, whipped potatoes with extra sour cream and butter.
For dessert, make him an extra large pecan pie. Serve it a la mode, and topped the whole dessert with a mountain of whipped cream. After he has eaten the entire meal and the whole pie too, serve him a fifth of sweet brandy and some Cuban cigars, if you can get them.
Remind him that the holidays are coming, and he has to stretch his stomach for the Twelve-days-of-Christmas eating contests which are a family tradition. God bless those dear little oinkers. But be careful. Like Arnold Ziffle told me in a dream, don't you indulge in eating me. It would be unhealthy for you, and embarrassing for me. Besides, it would deprive your man of all that zesty fat.
That goes for bacon too. Nix on the bacon, even though I know secretly you like it.
One caveat: be sure your husband is paid-up on his life insurance. Make him show you the receipts. After that, put on your cutest apron and get busy in the kitchen with Joan E's sure-fire, man-pleasing Ham What Am! Go get 'em, Sister. Say a prayer for the slaughtered, and remember that the abattoir serves not only the beastly carnivore, but the vegetarian too--in an indirect, kinder way! An inconsiderate man can't keep you down forever.
Girls and women of independent means rule! --j.e.t.
