If all of my tears combined and melted into a river, that would not equal the sadness that I feel now you have left me. If I could only take a sad song and make it better, then I could cheer myself up, but then again, if I had wings, I could fly. For only having two letters, “IF” is a mighty big word, because it can affect so many things, and it actually changes reality. If pigs could fly, that would have made Lewis Carroll very happy, but I tend to think that he was probably very happy from doing too many drugs. If the pigs could stretch out their skin and swallow a lot of air and somehow become lighter, or be propelled by gas from flatulence and float around in the air, that would be a sight to see. If these pigs only found a way to contain all the gas from burping and farting, then they would fly away and the cost of bacon would rise with them.
When you eat something very fast, people say you are eating like a pig, because pigs are always hungry and when they eat, they make a lot of noise. When pigs eat fast, they swallow a lot of air along with their food and this leads to borborygmi, those fun noises that come from their stomachs and intestines. Sometimes I like to pig out on snacks while watching TV, but I am not fond of pork rinds. If I could eat whatever I wanted, then I would be as happy as a pig in the mud and these animals actually do enjoy frolicking around in the mud, because it keeps them nice and cool, and then they won’t be sweating like pigs. I have been riding high on the hog here and trying to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear and I am hoping that I don’t make a pig’s ear out of this post, but if that is the case, then I will just squeal away.
Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is to start your post off with the word “if”.