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An Open Letter to Glitzy the Pig (from Here Comes Honey Boo Boo)

5 Sep

I have escaped! If you want to book me for appearances, please call 1-800-BACON and ask for Margarita my publicist. I’M FAMOUS BITCHES!
As a recently freed political prisoner, I am currently working on my Memoir, Pig in A Blanket: Escape from the Griddle. In my free time I like to roll around on my back, poop wherever I please, and eat until I pass out. I also enjoy reading graphic novels, Manga and my favorite show is Downton Abby. (Although all my littermates call it “Downtown” Abby, I’ve stopped correcting them).

Dear Glitzy,

As you are probably now all snuggled up in a nice warm bed of mud and your belly is full from a heaping helping of pig slop, I think we can talk. Piggy to crazy blog lady, you feel me?

Now, when I saw your cute squealing piggy face on Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, I thought of two things. 1) NO FAIR! Where’s MY cute little teacup pig?! and 2) This CANNOT end well.

I know it must have been humiliating to have your piggy toenails painted. If you want to, you can trade horror stories with my Doberman. Her favorite color is pink, by the way. (Because I told her so! Now smile pretty for Mama, Cookie). And doubly humiliating that apparently they never thought to Google the appropriate way to hold a pig, so apparently they kept pinching your little pig nuggets every time they picked you up. Squeeeeeeal!

But I think the biggest issue for me, is that every time you were onscreen, it was like you were on a razor’s edge. Let’s be frank here for a minute, these are people that eat roadkill. Granted, venison is good meat, I am a fan, but these are people who DO NOT WASTE ANYTHING! (See June’s toilet paper cache). Meaning, it would have only been a matter of time before you were on that barbecue.

Listen, I’ve been married to an Argentine for five years now, and I know what that look means. I saw the look on June and Sugar Bear’s face, and they were calculating how many meals they’d get out of you. Maybe that was why you squealed so much?

I even asked my husband if we could rescue you, but he said no. “Do you know what the problem with having a pet pig is?” he asked. “No,” I replied.

“They’re delicious.” And then he smacked his lips and started preparing some chimichurri. You would have been no better off with me. Razor’s edge, my friend.

So I just wanted to say, congratulations on being a free pig. I hope the next home you land in gives you tons of love and affection and doesn’t squeeze your piggy nuggets. And they don’t eat you.

Farewell Glitzy, you sweet gay little piggy.