I still feel like crap. Really, this is not cool. I was not born to be a mouth-breather. I was born to eat pork. Like this pork. No really, click the picture.
When I'm lying in bed tonight praying for the double dose of Tussin (don't worry I didn't mix it with three painkillers or Xanax) to kick in, I will be thinking about this pig. When I finally do drift off into a fitful sleep, it will be because my body knows I need to dream about this pig.
Sweet Jebus of Meat!!! Go here too. I dare ya. It's pork-friggin'-tastic.