Yep, still itching, but not nearly as bad. Almost soaked my foot in a bucket of Clorox yesterday.
Almost.
When I was writing that last chigger post and doing research on my chigger-facts to make sure I wasn't a complete rambling iddiot, I also did a search on the toes. Like, were there certain names for the specific toes? You know, besides "Big Toe" and "Pinky Toe".
Did you know that only the big and last digits on your feet actually have names? Hallux is the technical/medical term for your big toe and the common name for the last toe is, as we all know, the pinky toe. So why did the other three toes between "This Little Piggy went to Market" and "Wee-wee-wee all the way home" get jipped out of proper names? Doesn't seem fair if you asked me. Which you didn't.
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| "This Littly Piggy....." Cute or scary? |
Nope. That piggy was going to be shot or bludgeoned to death, chest cut open from neck to anus, have his insides ripped out of his body and then cut up into various cuts of pork, wrapped in butcher paper and put into the freezer. It was THAT kind of Market.
So we now know the real story. Piggy number one, the biggest (Big Toe) went to the slaughterhouse. He did not go to do his weekly grocery shopping at Trader Joe's.
Piggy number Two got to stay home. Possibly to be used as breeding stock.
Piggy number Three was obviously being fattened up as he was being feed roast beef, and will soon meet Piggy number One in the freezer section as packages of breakfast sausage, bacon and chops.
Piggy number Four didn't get any roast beef. The reasoning for his starvation is left up to our imagination. Which isn't necessarily a good thing given what's happening already.
And Pinky, Piggy number Five, was obviously witness to his mother/father being slaughtered and ran screaming in horror all the way back to the farm.
Probably into the arms of a hungry farmer thinking how wonderful it would be to have a young and tender pig on the spit for the weekend picnic.
So there you go folks. Another nursery rhyme totally ruined for you.
You're welcome.
Thanks a lot, Mrs. Grimm Brothers! ;o}
ReplyDeleteNah you got it all wrong. It isn't about actual pigs it's a Feminist conspiracy nursery rhyme designed to show that all men are pigs.
ReplyDeleteThe first piggy went to market. Obviously he is getting drunk and making the bar scene rounds.
The second piggy stayed home because he is a Lazy Bum and didn't have enough cash to go to the market.
The third piggy had roast beef because he was was single and still had money to actually spend on food.
The fourth piggy well he struck out and just didn't get none.
The pinky toe piggy. He was like short for his age and kinda whimpy and all so all he could do is run home screaming from all the rejection.
The moral of the story is only the biggest actually has a chance you see but if your smart at least you can still eat.
Alas, I believe the chigger bite has worked its way to your brain....hehehe. I will never be able to think about this nursery rhyme again. Ever.
ReplyDeleteYou crack me up!! :)
ReplyDeleteChiggers are something I don't miss about Arkansas. Here, here we got mosquitoes. Mosquitoes that hide in wait till you aren't looking and then sneak in and suck your blood leaving itching welts that make me peel my skin off. They get in the house and attack while I'm watching Grey's on Netflix. They even bite through my shirts and pants while I'm outside doing chores. So either I smell like OFF, or I'm covered in itchy scabs. /sigh
ReplyDeleteYou do have a wicked mind and a way with words!
ReplyDelete