This morning I was having a dream so ridiculous that I actually woke myself up from giggling. I realize that reading about someone’s dream is most often annoying and boring and probably you won’t find this as funny as I did but….I woke myself up giggling. I have to share that.
I was at a pig fair and had my two pigs on leashes.
These are not my pigs.
One was brown and bigger and one was white and smaller. So I’m letting my pigs pull me along and heading them towards a building with a huge arching doorway in front of me on the right. There’s a lot of people walking around, but I spot Christopher Judge (an actor from Stargate SG-1) coming towards me, scowling.
It’s hard to find a picture of him scowling.
Judge: Damn fair’s taking over my town.
He spots me–or, more accurately, my pigs.
Judge: Pigs?!?
This alone was almost enough to wake me up giggling, but no, it got better.
In the big building I enter there is a race track and a bunch of people with pigs queuing at the starting line. I join them. My pigs are super anxious to run and the white one keeps going over the line and I have to pull her back into place a couple times. The brown one sits, quivering, at my feet. He’s better behaved.
The starting gun shoots and we’re off!
Shot of me and pigs walking briskly.
Voice-over of announcers: And the contestants are on the move! These pigs are forces to be reckoned with. Just look at that pot bellied black one move! Michele and her two porkers are coming up into the lead now.
Shot of me and pigs running along with Michael Shanks (another actor from SG-1) and some other pig-racers.
Why am I dreaming of SG-1 people? I don’t know. I haven’t watched it recently. “Recently” being relative. I did watch all 10 seasons and 2 movies a couple months ago.
Voice-over of announcers: And they’re running now! The heat is on! Pigs get your starting engines and engage! Wait, what’s happening now? How are they moving so fast?!
Shot of me and Michael Shanks moving inhumanly fast.
Announcers: And where did the pigs go?!?!
We’re still moving so fast that everything around us is blurs to indicate speed and the pigs are missing from the image.
Announcers: Michele is carrying her pigs!
My pigs poof into place, one under each arm and I am still hoofing it to the finish line. Michael Shanks’ pig can’t be seen yet.
We are glaring at one another and one will get in front and then the other and it’s a fucking race, y’all. But I cross the finish line first, arms raised for victory so the pigs plop back on the ground. They land on their feet, don’t worry. They look both thrilled and also irritated that they didn’t win while on the ground running their short little legs themselves.
Announcers: And Michele is the winner! The undefeated champion! She made Michael Shanks and his pig eat her dust. Speaking of, Shanks’ pig…does he even have one? What kind of man enters a pig race without a pig?
Me: Yeah, what’s that about, Michael Shanks?
Michael Shanks pulls a teacup pig out of his shirt pocket.
This could very well be Michael Shanks’ teacup pig. I’m not going to speculate.
Tinkling adorable music swells around us as I am drawn in to the teacup pig’s limpid round eyeballs of cuteness. It’s a hugely touching moment and the entire audience of pig race spectators has caught their breaths.
Me: Suck on defeat, teacup pig! I kicked your ASS!
And that’s where I woke up giggling. At the teacup pig’s look of despair and my gloating revelry over him.