Saturday, July 24, 2004
love the job you're in
I think I’m feeling lucky. I don’t really mind now that I can’t ever tell the definite time on which I can stop working and go home. Nevermind the 12-hour telenovela-ish workday. Why? Well, this is where the pigs come in.
I’d first like to establish a disclaimer though: that I am in no way intentionally offending anyone in the pig industry. I am just so amazed by what has been told to me and I am compelled thus to write in the sincere, graphic and amazed fashion as was the state of my mind when I received the said information. Again, no offense. I love bacon.
Chips paid a visit to one of the bank’s clients last Friday. It was a piggery. In the course of the visit he learned that pig reproduction there is all done artificially. The stud and the sow don’t even see each other. Here’s the kicker. There is a person specially designated to jack off the stud. As in give the freakin’ pig a happy. Shit… diba? Are you feeling lucky now or what? I really don’t mind that I’m trapped in a cube, at least not a sty. You feel like shit, but at least you’re not wallowing in shit (while jacking off a pig).
And as there is a guy for the guy pig, there is a person (a guy too, I think) for the girl pig. They inseminate the sow using this really thin rod thing that towards the end, takes the shape of a screw (like a tiny spiral). So in essence, you really are screwing the pig. Sometimes, Chips was told, they have a second guy go on top of the pig (sumampa, kung baga). We speculate that it’s to preserve the authenticity of the experience.
So, another burning but hypothetical question: if these two were the only possible ways in the world to earn a living (and it's an extremely high living), which would you take on – the guy pig or the girl pig?
At this hypothetical point, I’d rather be a victim of suicide. Deadma na. I love my job. Don't you?
dezphaire strapped in @ 11:06 PM
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