De Piggy's Gettin' Thar

Heard someone on de radio jokin' that yu know you're gettin' old, when de song yu hear as yu enter an elevator prompts yu to exclaim, "Yeah! That's de Jam right there!" I've had that happen to me--several times, it will when yu love instrumentals, guitar solos, an' Kenny Loggins (can yu say "Footloose"?). De problem isn't so much havin' yu favourites bein' old school, de problem is constantly criticizin' de new stuff by usin' old school to knock it down. Da Piggy does that all de time. Don't want to hear no 50 cents (he needs Kurtis Blow to teach him timin'), don't want to hear no Ludakris (he could stand to study under Slick Rick), don't want to hear no Kim (but Missy's cool, an' Pharrell's got great old school flavour), an' ah rooted for Nas instead ov Jay, only 'cause Nas has more old-school an' constructive rhymes in him IMHO. Yep, old school's got me. I'm still tickled at de memory ov mi 13-yr-old neighbour in JA tryin' ta decide between "de mawga one or de mampy one" every time JJ Fad was on TV--he loved 'em an' de Super-sonic song. When Jdid posted about Special Ed recently, an' also reminded me ov Grand Poo (all Nubians!), ah was in heaven that day. It just don't get better, but I'm still alive. That's how ah feel about it. Can you say HATER!? Ah confess. That's what mi old-school preference makes me--an' it's de same for Reggae to some degree. Ah hear Assassin an' them, an' ah say to mi-self, I'd rather hear Stitchie singin' "Lover Boy Sess" or Tiger singin' "Don is Don" or Major Mackerel singin' "Noh Rush De Don Ban'." Tullo' T, Courtney Melody, an' others who might still be around had their hey-day back then. Can't tell yu how ah got in trouble for singin' Ninja's "Dead B-mb- Clawt." Mi Grandma nearly collapsed when she caught mi. "That's NOT how I raised you! Don't you dare sing that disgustin' bizniz! Mel, you goh wash out yu mouth wid soap now!" (She an' I both LOVED Red Dragon's "Fresh" though.) On Disco 9000 mini-bus, I'd hear de "bad" songs again, an' start singin' them again. Mi aversion to much current "popular" music convinces me that mi time is about past. It must be some-fing that happens when you're older than 30; yu start lambastin' new stuff, in favour ov de old. (Yu still got some good years to go, Kami--enjoy them to de fullest!) So, I've officially entered de hip-hop "Hater" stage. If you're a head from de new school, an' yu Hate mi opinion, don't git mad, git money! Your stuff just might become great old school for de current generation--an', hey, smooch Da Piggy!

From De Service

Here's what Da Piggy took from today's sermon:
Blasphemy against The Holy Spirit is de unpardonable sin, yet it seems like de easiest sin to do. Many don't recognize that it's often better to want some-fing yu don't have, than it is to be stuck wif some-fing that yu really don't want; and so when we're feelin' dissatisfied wif life, we might unwittingly lash out at God's divine plan or curse his intricate life-design because ov its applications to us. Let's be glad for all de gifts that God has given us today, an' say sorry for de times that we've been ungrateful or insulting ov his gifts. Let's have a thankful an' blessed week!

Waz REALLY Good?

Bloggers, it seems everyfing's a health hazard these days. De basics that we took for granted even a few years ago (like pourin' quicksilver into dental cavities, or usin' carbs as de staple ov our diet) have suddenly become secret toxins. Women are told they shouldn't replace silver fillin's wif white ones within a month ov gettin' pregnant, because swallowin' even a minute amount ov that mercury could harm de baby in de womb--yet so many ov us walk around for years wif this stuff in our teeth! Then more an' more experts say that every-meal carbs are de leadin' cause ov diabesity (diabetes, hyper-tension, and obesity combined). But who doesn't love carbs in every meal? De secret is supposed to be organic legumes an' poultry or fish--oops! Doesn't sea pollution increase de mercury in fish & such? An' haven't grocery chickens been takin' de fowl pill long before small-chested women started takin' it? Never mind that we nuke our food wif microwave radiation, never mind that we use TEFLON-coated pots an' pans 'cause so many stores seem to avoid carryin' stainless steel but promote de heck out ov none-stick cookware instead. Technology's good, but wif each advancement, we seem to be paintin' ourselves more an' more into a corner--by de time we're TOTALLY tech-advanced, NOTHING might be safe for us. Computers give off radon, but they're in almost every job--are we paranoid yet? Oh, just in case we're not, smokin' isn't de only lung-foe (though MNCs promoted smokes to 5-yr-olds in under-developed countries in an effort to cash in on life-time chain-smokin'), hello, sugar-less gum! This is becomin' a bit much. Ah try to avoid gm food--no beef, to avoid steroids/hormones--like Tiger said, "We's big, we don't nyam pig"--but we all bite a pig in some form or other--maybe even in Cheez Trix. (An' btw, what de heck's de difference between processed cheese food or cheese product, an' regular cheese?) Fast food is slow poison, yet as de domestic (N. Amer.) market gets wiser to this, de restaurants just export de related diseases to less educated worlds (let's call those worlds "developin' countries"). Wow. Does it matter that just a few years ago, Coca-Cola took on de monumental marketin' task ov convincin' ACP (African, Caribbean, Pacific) populations to drink soda (Coke or some culturally-customized version ov Coke) instead ov water to quench their thirst. "Yeah! Don't drink water when you're thirsty--that's uncivilized--drink cold sugar to quench your thirst!" When Coke first dressed up Santa in its company's red & white, it probably had no idea that it woulda been able to follow de Santa outfit to as many countries as have heard about Christmas--an' which country hasn't? Greedy MNCs set out to purchase land around many countries' rivers an' streams, just so they can erect barriers to deny people access to their natural water sources, an' then turn around an' sell de same people bottled "spring" water from de same vendin' machine as soda--like soda's as healthy as pure water! An' btw, one MNC carries on years after it convinced people in African countries that its baby-formula was safer than breast-milk, causin' millions ov babies to die 'cause mothers didn't realize how toxic de water-formula mixture would be. (Mi only fitness goal was to exercise an' maintain mi current weight, but now that I'm monitorin' mi lifestyle in detail, I'm questionin' more ov this stuff.) These pre-natal check-ups do cause one to wonder an' ponder, don't they?

Small World

Yu can't get away scot-free! (A scot was de tax that serf paid to feudal Lords)
Yu goin' meet yu Waterloo! (Waterloo's de Belgian city where Napoleon met his final defeat in 1815)
Please don't yu rock mah bones, cause ah don't want mah bones to be rocked!" (De only request that Bob ever made regardin' his skeletal remains, which if disregarded might cause Rita to meet her Waterloo.)
Evidently, some don't fear retribution too much, but retribution is a rough road. Small example, ah went to drop off mi Piglet at martial arts last evenin', an' was hopin' that someone would be loiterin' by de front desk, so that we wouldn't have to buzz an' then freeze outside waitin' to be let in. Luckily, someone was just bein' buzzed in. Ah tapped mi horn, an' de Piglet an' I made our way towards de woman who was prob'ly goin' in to pick up a child from de earlier class. She looked around, an' held de door, clutchin' her coat about her to keep warm. Then we recognized each other. She's de pushy store-clerk that spritzed De Piggy last Christmas! Oops! She looked like she thought, "There's de customer that gave mi de evil eye last Christmas!" She spun 'round quickly--almost as though she'd never seen us at all, an' walked off so that de door clicked shut. We knocked on de glass, as she walked away, but she wouldn't look back. We buzzed. We waited, hopin' that she'd soon be back wif her pick-up. Nope. She seemed to be takin' her own sweet time. We froze for a few minutes until a lady--wif her son, Matthew, Piglet's buddy--also early for de next class, was sent to see who was at de door. As we entered, we saw de pushy clerk finally leavin' wif two kids--prob'ly picked up her friends' kids for them. In those few freezin' moments outside, ah wondered whether this was retribution. Standin' outside when it's colder than hell frozen over sure feels like it, but it might not have been. Maybe, she'll be facin' some likkle retribution for bein' so spiteful an' vindictive--an' yes, Bloggers, it IS a small world, isn't it?

Pork-pourri

Yu know how psychologists say that de most critical non-family bond is de first same-sex friendship that each ov us develops when we get to about 10 years old? Well, mi mind's been wanderin' to mi long-time friend from school days, K. She was such a marvelous kid. She used to be a helluva "dance instructor" when she was likkle, an' she used to be a raahtid hairdresser too--she used to fix mi hair in all kinda wacky hairdos--ah fink she believed ah was her doll even though we're de same age. She was mi confidante, an' mi company fe hug-up, as we crossed de road to our friend's house--we argued & 'gree back so many times! When we got to Wolmer's , an' we had no classes together at all, we drifted apart, then after high school, we totally lost touch. Last ah heard, she was workin' at Air J, an' she's been married for some time now, but ah don't even know her new surname. Mi other friend, S, migrated to Austria wif her parents over a decade ago--don't know where she is now. 'S' was so irreverent an' cool. Ah remember in confirmation class, she said she wouldn't confess ALL de sins ov that week to Father Cr. (sinful thoughts, masturbation, etc.), to repent ov them an' be forgiven through intercession. "Him can goh catch him jollies off-ah somebody else," she said. "'Cause me naw tell him all a my bizniz!" She told him only what she wanted to, even after we told her that if she didn't confess everyfing, then one day far away, Holy Communion woulda choke har. :-) She stuck to her guns, an' held out on him--but based on de parts that she told him, she still had to do more penance than everybody else! Suppose she did tell him everyfing--all now she'd still be sayin' Hail Mary's! She was one ov a kind.
I've long been wantin' a reunion, an' some sweet nostalgic posts from Sunshine, Kami, an' Jdid have added to mi resolve. When ah read Scratchie's post yesterday, ah remembered some-fing that K's mother said one evenin', when she was sittin' on her lawn chair, an' we kids sprawled off on her shiny veranda tiles. (We could talk to K's mom about anyfing.) 'S' was sayin' that fornication wouldn't be a big deal if people only did it once, an' never a second time. However, K's mom told us never to fall into de trap ov believin' that anyone can easily do wrong once an' only once. "You can't miss what you never had," K's mom said. "So it's much better for someone to remain a tantalizing thought than for you to convert that person into a disturbing memory. Confess an' repent." K's mom didn't seem too keen on confession booths either--'God is de direct line, why go through de operator then?' Scratchie's post was partly about handlin' extra-marital attraction, an' wif de memory ov K's mom, came this memory gem. "Speak the truth, and speak it ever, cause it what it will; (s)he who hides the wrong he does, does the wrong thing still." That's supposed to be de gem that helps spouses to tell each other everyfing--even de bad stuff, but still we don't have to burden a partner wif hourly reports every time someone tries to flirt wif us, or approaches our interest. That's just plain cruel, an' that kinda stuff would make anyone insecure. Funny how readin' a Blog stirred up such thought. Keep on Bloggin, folks.

Jus' De Facts, Ham.

After talkin' to mi heartbroken uncle, an' hearin' how he's puttin' on a brave face every time he steps out into de $#&%@ freezin' London streets to rebuild what some triflin' gold-digger stole from him, it occurred to mi: these days, love sucks wif a straw where singles are concerned. Yeah, singles are free agents, they don't have to answer to anybody except God & de gov't, they keep odd hours, they flirt freely 'cause there's no wife to get mad at 'em, but at de end ov it all, they must battle this paranoia: who's just tryin' to use me? Ah mean, isn't that de world we live in? Ah know I'm no expert on de datin' scene (Mr. Pig an' I knew we were meant to marry from ah was 20 years old, an' over a dozen years later, we still believe we were right. Others didn't believe us then, but they've since shut up. PTL!), but de single life seems rougher an' rougher out there.
Point is, de world gets more materialistic by de second, an' that affects some people more than others. If you're not one who's drawn to de vanity, then you just might be a sittin' duck for those who want to con a sentimental schmuck. I'm glad I'm spoken for. Why? 'Cause I'm such a sentimental schmuck. Yes, I am. Truth is truth, an' I'm not ashamed to say it. Ah still melt when mi husband sneaks up behind mi an' puts a likkle kiss on mi neck. To me, that's priceless. And I just cannot imagine people goin' through these displays ov affection, knowin' deep down that their only concern is how much money they can con out ov de person who's weak for them. Those money-mongers are savages! Mi husband's lucky too, 'cause he's just as sentimental as De Piggy. However, mi equally sentimental uncle's not so lucky. As de sayin' goes, him pick an' pick, soh 'til him pick shet. Tough. There just has to be some sure-fire way ov weedin' out de users an' gold-diggers, aside from just plain old intuition. There's got to be a strategy to sussin' them out, an' castin' them aside from they bat that first eye-lash at yu. Time doesn't always tell, yu know, some-time it tell' too late! Singles, ah fink there should be a datin' resume--more precise than datin'-service profiles. De resume should contain totally updated med records, profiles ov ex-lovers, any short- & long-term goals, work history, family profile (in case de relatives are in league wif de gold-digger, like mi uncle's ex's relatives were), and an essay outlinin' habits, fitness facts, and any idiosyncrasy. This docket-resume should be notarized by a JP or notary public or any official who can bind de dater to what he/she's got on paper and penalize fraud. Some bandoolu ones woulda still slip through, but for de most part, it would put crucial info up front. Seems way ahead ov its time, ah know, but don't yu feel it's a good idea?

Snowy Sunday

"I could've finished 'em off faster, but I paced myself, 'cause I wanted ta keep punchin' 'em." -- Jack Johnson, boxin' champ talkin' about de rivals he knocked out. Isn't that an unusual quote from De Piggy on a Sunday? Normally, I'd write along de lines ov, "God works all things to the good of them that love Him." That's still true, but maybe because it's snowin' so much today, an' instead ov goin' to church, ah stayed in an' spent a rough couple ov hours on de 'phone wif mi uncle who lives in London, mi outlook is skewed today. Mi uncle works hard. He used to run mi Grampy's furniture-lumber bizniz by himself before Grampy died an' family in-fightin' started. Customers loved him, an' used to ask for him by name. When de struggle over Grampy's estate wore on, Uncle moved back to England to seek his own fortune--an' after a few years, his brothers ran Grampy's bizniz into de ground. They weren't half as smart as mi favourite uncle. Yes, he's mi favourite. (I've mentioned him in previous posts.) This Blog's always been written in honour ov his crazy cockney accent. Ah love Smartie-pants dearly, but now he doesn't feel so smart. After leavin' de rift wif his siblings, he slaved in subzero temperatures and had his fiancee administerin' all his finances at home. He went all out for de past three years, not even buyin' a plane ticket to JA as he'd normally do. He worked without a vacation, an' to de best ov his knowledge, he an' his fiancee bought a house, a new car, and commercial property together. At 43, he's quite ready to marry her an' start a family this year. Then after labourin' in de cold, he finally returned to JA last year, an' was shocked to find that she was big big pregnant--for some other guy--and even more shocked to find that he doesn't own most ov what he thought he owned. That woman, her new boyfriend, an' her relatives own all that his money bought. Mi uncle's heartbroken. Now, he realizes de value ov blood-family, an' he wishes he'd had his sisters manage his finances in his absence or keep his foreign-currency account in his name only. He trusted his ex too much. His ex was never much for his family. She believes we're too deep into one another's bizniz. Evidently, she's wrong about that, since she had more access to his finances, an' more knowledge ov his budget than even his Mum did. He's crushed. His sisters are pushin' him to demand that his ex an' her relatives vacate de house that he worked so hard to buy. His ex is afraid ov mi Auntie an' told him, "I'll eventually pay yu back, but keep that coolie woman away from mi!" WHAT?? Now Auntie's more than willin' to tear that schemer to bits, but mi uncle said everyone should just forget about this, an' leave conniver to God. I wondered, Leave her to God? Searchin' mi mind for a biblical quote that would satisfy de inadequacy ov his statement, de only quote that came to mind was Jack Johnson's quote that started this post. Ah don't know how long Uncle can tame his most fiery sister--I'd hate for them to contribute to de violence in JA, but there's a lot ov animosity goin' on concernin' what his ex did. Still, in all their anger, no one realizes how hurt Uncle is in all ov this. I've tried to lift his spirits over de 'phone, but what does a guy in his position really need to hear at a time like this?

Forever Wolmer's

Hi, Bloggers. Kami's Blog called to mind de school ah love de most. So today, I'm payin' tribute to WOLMER'S--"Age Quod Agis"--"Whatever we do, we do it to de best ov our abilities." Yeah, Bybee!! Whatta school! MB's Dad was a Wolmerian too, ah heard--a school that helped shape him into a fine father and a fine man, I'm sure. For those ov you who don't know, de Prep School hugged de Girls' School cavaliers side, and de Boys' School hugged de girls' upper school side toward Heroes Circle.
What some girls loved: Usin' de crosswalk--it was de rule.
What some didn't love: Usin' de crosswalk--it was de rule.
What some girls loved: De boys who idled below de 2nd storey 4th-form buildin' an' cheered every time they saw a girl they liked--Lawd help yu if yu slip ever show!--they'd go crazy, until Mr. Barnett would send someone to chase them away. They had de good mind to remain silent, and not to "boo", if they didn't fancy someone.
What some girls didn't love: De same boys who idled below de 2nd storey 4th-form buildin' an' whistled whenever they saw a girl they liked--one skinny boy wif a high curly 'Fro used to whistle whenever he saw me--and his friends used to whistle along wif him. Ah used to hold up mi Trapper Keeper to hide mi face whenever ah had to leave de classroom after classes or at lunch-time. That never stopped them; it only made them laugh--and they still recognized me. Yeah, 4th-form was a perplexin' year. On Sports Day, mi pony-tail clip came loose in de midst ov sports excitement (jumpin' up for mi House), an' de high-Fro whistler retrieved it. Mi just grab de clip from him an' run! His friends laughed, and de embarrassin' wolf-whistles continued. A girl from de neighbourin' 4th-form classroom had it worse; her Dad barked at de boys once, but de next day, de cat-calls continued.
Whom most girls loved: Mrs. Girvan, de English teacher, because she was such a stickler for good grammar, yet had such a great sense ov humour. Our favourite pet names for teachers: Scrip-cha Willie (Scripture/R.K. teacher, Mrs. Wyllis), Miz Bellum (LOUD French teacher, Mrs. Harrison--thunderous voice), Flat-head (boy's school Econ--taught us in co-ed 6th form--he allegedly always told de boys "Gwaan goh play Sunlight Cup!" Not cricket--he was sendin' them to stand out inna de sun as punishment. Wolmer's boys also called a certain teacher Mount EverBreast--'cause ov her generous 'buzums'--out ov respect for de teacher, ah won't say her real name.
Can't speak for de boys, but they always loitered by their fence--EVERY mornin' rain or shine, and critiqued de girls who took de bus to Torrington Bridge. God help any girl who allowed them to tamper wif her, they'd bawl out her bizniz by de fence--one girl's parents removed her from Wolmer's at de end ov 1st (!) form for that very same reason. Anyway, ah won't bash de boys. They were gentlemen for de most part--even though some ov them lurked by de tennis courts like stalkers. If a girl kept a safe distance, de most they'd do is whistle from a distance; they never got into malignin' girls who didn't pay them any mind. Gotta respect that. Big up to every Wolmerian out there in Blogland!! Have a nice day, everybody!

From Today's Sermon

Here's what De Piggy took from today's sermon: To avoid tug-ov-war against God's divine plan, ask God that your dreams may be born within His holy will; that way, your every dream will be blessed by God and will surely come true, when God's will be done.
"Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer." Psalms 19:14
Have a luvly, Sunday, and a great week!

P.S. If we believe that our current hopes and dreams are not God's will, then we could ask Him to gently turn our hearts and minds only toward what He wants us to do.

Truly Heartfelt

I wrote this poem because my heart is full:


Jamaica Is Sincerely Sorry

Jamaica is sincerely sorry.
Not only has she been killing her own,
She has alienated also admirers
And she is becoming lost and alone.

She has been hemorrhaging
But none have stanched the flow,
Many have been trying bravely
Going where most would fail to go.

But those who would kill Jamaica
Do not want to see her healed,
So young Dr. Nanton arrived on our shores
Not knowing his fate was sealed.

He was a stellar son
Of St. Vincent & The Grenadines
And would foster broader Caribbean pride
For all that he was and promised to be.

Now, we feel not just the angry hurt of the parent
Whose offspring cut short its own life,
But also the guilty pain of the parent whose bad seed
Murdered a neighbour's son, wasting the potential of their joy and pride.

St. Vincent, we can't make it up to you
We've long been battling this evil ourselves.
We who love our island can only give you
Our heartfelt condolence,
And say that this abomination
Is not our country's way.
It is a scourge that has held our region hostage
From which--by God!--we'll all escape some day.

Heroes

Heroes like Martin Luther King roam among us every single day. If you doubt this, just read the story entitled "One of The Best" at Mad Bull's Blog . If it doesn't touch your heart, ah don't know what will. Have a nice weekend!

J'can Challenges

Strange happenin's in JA, from what I'm readin', Bloggers. Doc and Scratchie report some perplexin' situations re crime & police. Two men missin', and Commissioner Forbes is out. I've always believed Trevor McMillan was de better choice for de post ov commissioner. No, Piggy's not political--but Mr. McMillan just had a credible, no-nonsense way to him. He spoke frankly, which encouraged transparency. Ah don't know Mr. Forbes at all--who does, really, after so many years in office? Scratchie mentioned Forbes' sudden show ov transparency: publishin' officers' privacy, like de people dem age can solve crime. Politics corrupt. Some police corrupt, some not.
Almost eighteen years ago, ah went to visit mi grandfather at Andrew's Memorial before he succumbed to his illnesses. De hospital felt claustrophobic, so ah left, and wandered about for a bit, tryin' to accept that Grampy was really on his way out. Ah didn't realize how shaken ah was, until a policeman pulled up beside me on his bike and asked, "Yu okay?" He looked at mi like he was tryin' to place mi age--ah was long an' cranky--but up close, he could see that ah was little more than a child. He escorted mi back to de hospital. Visitin' hours were now up, and mi uncle had driven off a few minutes earlier, believin' I'd left wif Auntie. (Them time deh,telephone an' telegram nevva even start wine together fe conceive cell phone, soh there was no way to call him back right away.) No problem. Ah was wearin' jeans--modestly bike-friendly gear--and ah had mi first and only bike ride! De policeman safely took mi home, told mi to stay sweet, and said, "Noh worry, dear heart, God a look-out fe Grampy." Ah never forgot that. De bad cops who draw down 'pon people an' try hustle money don't sway mi opinion. That one policeman will always be mi strongest impression ov de JA Constabulary Force. I'm prayin' for de force in JA, 'cause believe me, Bloggers, there are some good cops out there. Hope yu have a great day!

From De Sermon

What De Piggy took from today's sermon is along de lines ov our New Year's sentiments--holding true, irrespective ov fame or fortune:
Compromise lives within boundaries; it is not boundless exchange. Esau sold his birthright for a mess of pottage, never thinking that he was giving away his life. Give and take only within the perimeters of your good values, never invalidating yourself. People who truly mean you well will respect your refusals as readily as they accept your agreement. "For what doth it profit a man to gain the world and lose his soul?"

De Ongoin' Oink

Greetins from De Piggies! Last night, ah heard a troubled final-year UWI student tellin' Dear Pastess that she doesn't know what'll happen to girls who look like she does. She said she just doesn't believe that guys are interested in de purely Afrocentric. "Don't worry, sweetheart," Dear Pastess soothed her. "You'll soon find a nice guy." But she was inconsolable; she said that on de UWI campus all she sees are de biracial girls bein' wined and dined by both de Black and de mixed males, and that's led her ta feel that Black girls might never marry and multiply. She's out to pasture at her young age, it seems. Dear Pastess told her that she's got a lot goin' for her, as charmin' as her voice was and as eloquently as she expressed her (low) self-concept. She couldn't be convinced. That was disturbin'. Some men called in and tried to explain why they prefer de more obviously biracial (askin' if all J'cans really multi-racial), or even to pledge their admiration for Black women & EVERY kinda women. However, de girl had started a snowball rollin', and soon other women were callin' in to complain that de men who choose Black women refuse to give them de royal treatment that de biracial ones get. New version ov an outdated song, and just when it seemed like Dear Pastess was gettin' somewhere drummin' into them that times are a-changin' and color matters less these days, there was de one sour-orange who called to say, "Black man like me haffe lighten them lineage soh that them pickney won't born too Black and suffer." Aaaaaaagh!!!!! Stop it, JA! We'll lag behind de rest ov de world, if wi hang on to mental slavery. Stop it, JA--are they even listenin'?

Piggy's Old Picture

Mr. Pig got such a kick out ov hearin' about a picture that was in our old album, he suggested that ah Blog about it. So here goes:
De boy in de picture that Mr. Pig saw is someone I'll call "Mystery," and when ah was seventeen, Mystery used to be at mi gate some afternoons--mi Grandma was a STRICT person. He was okay, in general--but what De Piggy really liked about him was his mischievous look that hinted at RUDE knowledge. We hung out at de plazas (de mall) most Saturday afternoons after ah completed mi chores, and although we called ourselves boyfriend & girlfriend we were pretty platonic, until he came up wif de bright idea that it was time he and De Piggy French-kissed. (He knew a lot about stuff like that--RUDE knowledge.) Anyway, that day he did some-fing that made mi believe ah was madly in love wif him. (Ah won't say what he did, 'cause it was so SILLY--mi husband laughed 'til he almost rolled off de couch and kept askin' me to repeat it when ah told him about that.) Anyway, Mystery said what he said and did what he did, and ah was SURE that ah loved him, and that he'd be mi number one in more ways than one. He said as much to some ov de boys at his school, and I'd been sayin' as much to a few ov de girls from mi school. But those plans were not to be; ah soon found out that Mystery'd had another girlfriend all along. (He denied de other relationship to de very end, and even tried to embarrass de poor girl into sayin' that they'd long been broken up--such a lost cause.)
Anyway, this just goes to show how puppy love can really be mongrel love, and how silly we were as youngsters. In front ov him, de girl said what he wanted her to say; then as soon as his back was turned, she admitted that she and he were still together. Ov course, De Piggy run him! It all turned out very well for mi though, 'cause for years now I've had somebody who's far more interestin'--Mr. Pig! ;^) Yeah, Bybee!!
Ah thought ov throwin' de picture out, but "Keep de picture," Mr. Pig said. "A part a life. A history." And ah guess it is, 'cause now I've written about it. Enjoy de rest ov your day, luv!

Sentence From De Sermon

De Piggy took this from today's sermon: Few people wisely capitalize on their own doubts and fears. A man reportedly suffered mentally-debilitating nightmares; he'd always wake up frightened and exhausted. However, he capitalized on his own cowardice and wrote novels that led to lucrative movie deals. Now, he's a resounding success. De moral ov de sermon? Push past your fear this year, whatever it may be, and claim de benefits ov a fearless life. Have a great day!