Hello folks, how goes it over there? And over there? What about you over there? Flippen cool, I hope? Here’s yesterday’s column, just in case you were so hung over you couldn’t move far enough to get a paper, or if you were still at your dealer’s house, or maybe you were still so drunk from Saturday night, your eyes couldn’t focus? Or maybe you were in jail? Just in case any of the above, here’s the column:
A MILLION MILES FROM NORMAL. By Paige Nick
BRING A PIG TO WORK DAY
The guy who sits behind me’s, second cousin’s girlfriend brought a pig into the advertising agency where I work. Do I need to repeat that? And which part? The guy who sits behind me’s second cousin’s girlfriend? Or the fact that she brought a pig into the office?
It was really cute (the pig, not the second cousin’s girlfriend). Apparently they’re all the rage these days. Dogs and cats are so passe, and budgies, forget about it. The pig is the new black. Apparently they make fantastic pets. Smart, surprisingly clean and pretty damn adorable if this one was anything to go by. It was teeny tiny weenie, about thirty centimetres long and it was black with a little pink snuffly nose and pink ballet shoed hoofs, and a curly little piggy tail. And this little piggy’s name was Floyd. Pig Floyd.
I’ve heard of Bring a Girl Child to Work Day, and Cleavage Day and Casual Friday, and for a while there we even had Friday is Tie Day. But I didn’t know that there was a Bring A Pig To Work Day. If only I’d known. Unfortunately I don’t have a pig, but I’m sure I could have found some bacon somewhere.
What can I say, when it comes to bacon, I’m Jew-ish. I’m a big fan, who wouldn’t be? I’m sorry, I know it’s wrong, but I’d eat bacon wrapped in bacon if it was on the menu. Other than biltong, bacon is the number one reason I don’t get vegetarians. The only reason I can imagine that you wouldn’t eat bacon, is if you’ve never actually tasted it before, then you wouldn’t know any better.
But back to Cleavage Day. Who else is with me in thinking that it had to have been a guy’s idea? In fact, I’m imagining a whole bunch of blokes sitting around one Saturday at half time.
GUY ONE: ‘Hey dudes, let’s invent a day, like No Top Day, and then all the chicks will come to work without tops on, it will be legendary!’
GUY TWO: (Clearly the least stoned of all the guys.) ‘Are you mad? There’s no way they’d go for that! What about a No Bra Day instead?’
Then all the guys whooped and did fist pumps and knuckle bumps at the very genius of their idea, until another guy spoke up, most likely the lawyer in the group.
LAWYER GUY: ‘Okes, I really don’t think they’re going to go for that either. The most we can hope for is maybe a Cleavage Day, at a push.’
GUY ONE AGAIN: ‘Hey I know, what if we say it’s for charity, do you think they’ll do it then?
LAWYER GUY: Well, it’s no Tits-out Day, but there’s no harm in trying.
And so Cleavage Day was born (in my mind).
In retrospect, what on earth possessed us women to first agree to it and then actually go along with it? What’s in it for us? It’s not like we get anything in return, like a Wear Tight Pants to Show off Your Package Day. Or a No Shirt If You’ve Got a Six-Pack Day, or heaven forbid, Who’s Got Balls Day. Although I could think of nothing worse.
Now that I think about it, perhaps it’s not more Bring A This or Wear A That To Work Days that we need to enhance our working lives. I think that could quite simply be achieved by instituting some good old-fashioned Kindergarten rules in the workplace. Like how about a Play Nicely And Share Your Toys Day? Or an Always Wash Your Hands After You Pee Day. And I’m almost positive that work would be a much friendlier place if we all had a little nap every afternoon and then woke up to a glass of milk and a cookie before getting back to work. Who needs massive amounts of cleavage all over the place when you’ve got milk and cookies? Oh, what’s that you say, you’re a guy and you’d rather have the Cleavage? Well, then I guess there’s no need for a Bring A Pig to Work Day after all, they’re at work already.