Sat down with a couple of pigs the other night, and talked, as always, in ramblings. Every day, common, bleak, dreary life details of the most obnoxious kind.
How could such pigs complain about manners when one decides to relieve himself of the banality, without saying farewell, is beyond me. It took a few cuts by some shredded glass pieces, to eventually settle the matter.
Love them pigs, and their sense of manner.
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