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Piggy, will you marry me?

PorcineAdventure20131127Diary of a nervous boar, 27.11.13


Oh snort. I’m currently the most nervous porcine in the whole world. So much so that when eating breakfast this morning I accidentally impaled an apple on one of my tusks. It’s been months since I last did that. I’m also currently probably the most situationally unaware porcine in the world. Already Twice today I’ve trotted straight into a tree. My brain is completely focused on details that are far more important than impending collisions with inanimate objects.

Details like: exactly what I’m going to say. You see, this evening I’m going to ask her. I really am. I am finally going to do it. Two-leg mummy and two-leg daddy gave me their blessing, and I’ve decided that tonight will be the night.


Last night I suggested to Piggy that we explore the Dan-noob river bank today. I thought it would be very romantic: the soothing flow of the water, the glint of lights on its surface and the peaceful sounds of nature with no one to disturb us. And I have to say, I was right. It’s beautiful here. Not that I’ve really been paying attention to our surroundings. As I snorted above, I’ve been living in a daze. A love-daze. Also I’d really like to snort a poem for Piggy. But it’s so difficult. So far this is what I’ve got:

Piggy you turn my world inside out,
I love your smile, your scent, and your snout,
Your eyes are so kind, your skin so smooth,
Your delicate gentle lovely hooves,
Your graceful trotters, your cute curly tail,
You I will always love without fail.
Piggy you are my one true love, my life,
Please will you be my porcine wife?


Actually I’m not sure a poem is such a good idea. I’m so clumsy with words. Especially when nervous. I’d probably get it wrong, for instance I might accidentally snort:

Your graceful trotters, your cute curly fail,
You I will always love without tail.

Ugh! I don’t like to think of Piggy without her tail. I remember reading once on a google webplace about a horrible CAFO that cut off the tails of piglets! How could they hurt harmless little baby piglets? How?!


Maybe it would be best if I snorted a really short poem. That way I’d be less likely to mess it up. How about:

Roses are red, apples are green,
Piggy is a beauty queen.
Violets are blue, corn is yellow,
Please Piggy let me be your fellow.

Or even shorter:

Piggy is pink, I am brown,
Can I buy you a wedding blanket-gown?


I also don’t know what to do about the hooflet. I have one; I’ve been secretly carrying it ever since we were in Kumari-La (it was a giftsie from Squiggles the octopus called a “Kumari-La Pearl Hooflet”). But maybe Piggy won’t like it? Maybe she’ll think it’s manky?


Oh, boar, I’m not even sure it’ll fit on her hoof!!! I just tried it on mine and my hoof is too fat. I can’t be sure, but I think it’ll fit on her nice svelte trotters. Not that there’s any way for me to easily find out… I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier!

Oh snort. Epically scared Puggy.


I’m not really in the mood for food.

WHAT AM I SAYING? I cannot believe I just wrote that! I am ALWAYS in the mood for food! This has never happened to me before. I must be even more love-dazed and nervous than I realised…


I’m not going to snort a poem—I can’t think of one that will convey how much I love her. Instead, I’m just going to tell her how I feel. How I really feel. How I love every single little thing about her.


Okay world, wish me luck. Snort!

Listen to nervous Puggy reading his diary!

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