Latest from The Spokesman-Review
I invite you to check out a few Pig Out pick-up lines in Friday's Slice column.
Can you tell by their midday aroma that colleagues have been to Pig Out in the Park?
Without actually walking up and sniffing them, I mean.
Tomorrow in The Slice column.
Slice readers offered these in late August of 2003.
Up That Pig Oinker — Gordon Hensley
Take'r In, Hippo Gut — James Dodds
True, I Pat Pink Hog — Sandra Bancroft-Billings
Petition Park Hug — Terry Hontz
That U Porking Pie? — Connie Castle
Good morning, Netizens…
I have been hectic for over a week’s time. I suppose most people would mutter thickly beneath their breath about someone bitching about having more business than they can handle, but I am bitching. I have lots of projects, things which profit me little or nothing, but must be done nonetheless. There are several stories that need to be told which, for the time being, will sit glaring at me from the corners of my desktop; several honey-do projects that will be put off until I can recover from this insensible madness, and even worse, I have been pumping myself up, trying to lose weight and recover my good health but even that may be put off for awhile. Then there is the incessant work.
I have chosen to ignore Pig Out in the Park once again this year, for it represents a particular type of culinary temptation I don’t need and yet, based upon previous years, cannot resist. Each booth tantalizes my senses, begs me to indulge in more self-indulgence and Lord knows, I don’t need the extra calories or the fat. Instead of running downtown to embrace the madness in the park, I will wait, like an unrepentant sinner that I am, and perhaps drop by as the festival draws to a close.
Maybe if I am lucky everyone will still have their stands up and serving food and oh so tremulously I can sneak into the park for just one sniff, one delicate sniffing of the good smells I so dearly love, should not have but cannot resist. Perhaps maybe by the weekend, with temperatures plummeting well down below our local averages, perhaps the incessant crowds will have dissipated, leaving the arena of wonderful smells and memories of times when I could eat whatever my soul desired to an old gray-haired man with lust in his heart.
Of course I should not mention Pig Out in the Park without reminding everyone of the two truly awe-inspiring men without whom it would never have become what it is. Bill Burke and Val Workman have slaved like two giant workhorses for as long as I have known them in the traces of public service. The really marvelous story of Pig Out in the Park is told http://www.spokanepigout.com/about.ydev and it is a story to cherish. Thank you both for all that you have done to make such a success story happen.
Even if I dare not linger too closely to the bountiful feast.