Clarabelle

For those of you who follow me on Instagram and Facebook, you already know about how I met a pig. You are probably all like, “Omgah, CLARE, get over the stupid pig you randomly saw on the street. No one cares anymore.“

Well, I don’t be carin’ bout yo opinion, foo’! I met a pig and that news must be blogged!

So here is how it happened: I was walking down the fine, gold paved streets of Harlem when my fiance goes, “Oh, there’s a pig.”

He said it in such a casual, distant manner, too — like he was saying, “That’s my jacket.” or “Let’s pick up some chicken at the store.”

I, of course, made a big spectacle of the whole thing. I mean LOOK — A PIG! On the STREET! Being walked with a LEASH! Like a dog that can also be made into bacon! A M A Z I N G ! !

The pig was a jolly, old, soul that tore alarmingly large hunks of grass from the tree beds and ate said grass like I was completely boring her with my presence.

She loved me. I knew it.  So I  proceeded to take about fifteen pictures of her.

Her owner, a crazy (seriously) old lady I hadn’t really noticed before she started speaking (so rude of me), was all like, “Do you want to feed her?”

Ummmmm YES!

So I fed the pig!! I fed her these little pellets of something. And then I petted the pig and her hair was like nasty wire. I didn’t really like petting the pig to be perfectly honest. Then, I put on my best newsboy hat and said, “That’ll  do pig, that’ll do.“.

Actually, I didn’t do that last bit with the newsboy hat.

So that was my weekend!

How was your weekend???