The Slam Pig

Stationery is fun.

2007-10-08T01:16:00.000-05:00

Two pics I took at work. They might go on the Better Homes and Garden website.

I'm a Casual Male.

2007-08-29T16:04:00.000-05:00

I have my first photo assisting job tomorrow with a photographer named Ian Justice. You can check out his portfolio site @ www.ianjustice.com. He's pretty good. It's a shoot for a company called Casual Male Retail Group. Casual Male is a "big and tall" clothing store...you've got to start somewhere. The only thing I'm afraid of is that they're going to approach me to model for them.

2007-08-17T17:26:00.001-05:00

I noticed something interesting today while flipping through Vogue magazine. All of the models not wearing earrings, have the earring holes in their ears photoshopped out...I mean, every single, solitary woman from cover to cover not wearing ear couture have perfect, virgin earlobes. Freaky.

Sarah's first fashion campaign.

2007-08-10T15:36:00.001-05:00

Sarah - The Jumping French Mime

2007-08-10T10:45:00.001-05:00

T-Shirts

2007-07-30T21:35:00.001-05:00

I've recently taken up silk screening as a hobby. These are a few things I've done so far.

GDR Linocut

2007-06-08T10:53:00.001-05:00

Mom and Dad in Berlin.

2007-06-05T20:22:00.001-05:00

Linocut

2007-06-05T02:00:00.001-05:00

Doodle

2007-05-06T01:24:00.000-05:00

Nasty Scrap Doodle.

2007-05-06T00:57:00.000-05:00

2007-05-04T13:34:00.000-05:00

2007-05-03T00:44:00.000-05:00

A Meal For Muffy.

2007-04-29T22:56:00.000-05:00

"That's it Muffy. Eat to your heart's delight."

Coming Soon!!!

2007-04-04T00:56:00.000-05:00

Greetings from Muffy The Cat.

2007-03-28T02:05:00.000-05:00

Muffy always gets into the spirit of Easter...and would like to challenge YOU to get into the spirit of Easter TOO!!!

Madlenka

2007-03-10T05:23:00.000-05:00

Boutros Boutros-Bailey

2007-03-08T16:40:00.003-05:00

My buddy Skyler from work introduced me to his great grandmother this afternoon. And what a lovely, albeit leathery, old lady she was. "Oh my! Peter is my favorite name," was Mimi's immediate and emphatic response upon introducing myself. Then, with equal enthusiasm, Mimi ratcheted up the charm (or was just being a total slut, Victorian style. I don't know.) -- "Gosh Peter, I didn't know they made them any taller than my grandson Skyler!!" You'd better believe I was flattered!! And what's even more titillating is that the Coptic word for "Peter" is "Boutros" and the informal meaning of "Peter" is "Penis," so suck my Boutros, Boutros.

Kitty Kouture

2007-02-28T08:47:00.000-05:00

MUFFY!! Quit whining and sit still.

Soup

2007-02-23T01:47:00.000-05:00

Tonight at work I took care of the soups -- this entails filling a stainless steel soup tureen with frozen soup mix, adding a pitcher of water, saran wrapping the tureen, and finally using a sharpie marker to write the name of the soup onto the cellophane. I was bored, so I decided to get creative with the soup names. Here's how I labeled them this evening (for real):

Cream of Filthy Chicken Shit Soup (Cream of Chicken)

Vagina Beef Soup (Vegetable Beef)

Corn In Your Stool Chowder (Corn Chowder)

Chicken Needle-Dick Soup (Chicken Noodle)

Tomato Fuck-a-Teen (Tomato Florentine)

When cats have nightmares.

2007-02-21T14:16:00.005-05:00

THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED...REALLY...SCOUT'S HONOR

I'm dog-sitting Jenn's dog Malley(a coworker's 10 month old, 110 pound Irish Wolf Hound/Bull Mastiff mix) this whole week while she's in Florida. I'm also watching her house and staying over there full time. At any rate, yesterday I needed to pop over to my apartment for a few hours, so I brought this Shetland pony of a dog along with me. Not long after we got settled in, Stacy decided to tend to some light housekeeping by pulling out her gargantuan upright Hoover. This coincided with Malley's attempts at engaging the poor cat (Muffy) in play. I mean, this scenario could not have played out anymore perfectly than it did.-- I shit you not, Muffy, was perfectly situated smack in the center of the living room at an equidistant point from both this huge vacuum and this massive, lumbering dog, which -- praise jesus -- was too distracted by the cat to notice the vacuum. Consequently, this cat, this poor, poor cat, the damn thing just walked unwittingly into the center of its own worst nightmare. It certainly wasn't surprising to find that Muffy was wholly paralyzed with fear...the kind of abject terror that severs the spinal cord right at the base of the neck. In a situation like this, only an asshole would consider the cat's feelings, so I immediately instructed Stacy to start threatening her own cat with the Vacuum. She was begrudging at first, but like anal sex, she got more comfortable with it and finally began deriving true pleasure from the experience. I'm not sure how much time passed, but I spent each glorious moment laughing so hard my belly nearly ruptured, cheering Stacy on as she continued to traumatize her own cat with the vacuum, and encouraging Malley in her efforts "get that cat!!get that nasty cat!!" After a time, the cat was able to get a hold of itself and managed to bolt through the kitchen and into the bathroom, its fat ass quivering with fear behind the shower curtain. Alas, all good things must come to an end.

The Catbox

2007-02-20T14:00:00.001-05:00

Muffy, don't give me that look. I told you what would happen if you threw up on the carpet again.

Cards

2007-02-20T01:07:00.001-05:00

I discovered a cache of my childhood baseball cards in a drawer this afternoon. Thought they looked nice against the diarrhea colored shag carpeting in our dumpy, run-down apartment here in lisbon, nh -- a dumpy, run-down town.

Fly on window.

2007-02-19T01:49:00.001-05:00

The view from our living room window during a beast of a winter storm.

My Goy Fro is coming in nicely.

2007-02-18T23:10:00.001-05:00

Massholes go home.

2007-02-18T17:17:00.000-05:00

As we speak and much to my dismay, it's snowing again. A thick stream of large, hearty flakes is blanketing the ground with perfect New England powder. It would seem that this place just doesn't want to stop being a winter wonderland. Christ, and we all know what that means...Massholes. In much the same way that Canadians are mocked by Americans, New Hampshire folk openly voice their disdain for people from Massachusetts. And now that the snow has finally arrived, we've become inundated with these Massholes. Yesterday I had to deal with them all day. First of all, they come into the deli as a herd. Once they're in, they stand there for 20 minutes looking up at the menu with their vacant, greedy eyes. At this point, one of them steps forward, usually the male alpha-douche -- and without looking you in the eye and certainly without a please or thank you, he orders for the lot of them. Meanwhile, those of us behind the counter are either flicking the family-unit off or making shooing motions with our hands. Really though, the icing on the cake is when they track your every movement as you make their food. Each time you look up, six sets of eyes stare back at you. I mean, we're a delicatessen not a zoo attraction. I should have believed Cindy the cashier--she predicted their arrival with astounding accuracy. For someone who lives in a trailer park, Cindy manages to impress me from time to time. At any rate, I'd choose an inbred, toothless North Woodsman any day, over a soulless yuppy from Massachusetts who doesn't brake for pedestrians. I speak for New Hampshire when I say, MASSHOLES GO HOME!!!

Masshole-mobiling.

2007-02-18T16:38:00.000-05:00

The Great Samu

2007-02-16T20:36:00.001-05:00

To those of you who may be wondering, Animal is still alive and well (pictured top). She has a new life partner (pictured bottom). His name is Samuel L. Jackson, after the American actor of Pulp Fiction fame. However, I've given the cat a more fitting moniker -- Samu, a name inspired by Seaworld's iconic orca, the great Shamu. Unlike Shamu, Samu doesn't perform tricks for food. He just shamelessy begs. And when he doesn't get his way, he viciously attacks my poor pussy, Animal. What a rotten turd of a cat. I can only take solace in the fact that I'm going to outlive him by about 50 years.

Yeah baby she's got it.

2007-02-16T12:05:00.001-05:00

Don't ask me about this one. I just don't know.

What I made for breakfast yesterday.

2007-02-08T10:08:00.000-05:00

Egg on bruschetta with sweet pepper relish and basil.

I'm a North Woodsman and I'm ok.

2007-02-08T08:54:00.001-05:00

Woolrich cap, Wrangler jean jacket, plaid button-up...all combined in an effort to avert a Matthew Shepard style White-Mountains-welcome, while at the same time placing myself at the forefront of North Woods couture. Done and done.

The Trampolinist

2007-02-07T00:25:00.000-05:00

This is for you Sarah.

2007-02-06T01:09:00.001-05:00

I probably shouldn't post weird, sick shit like this. I also don't exercise very good judgement. I do know that this one is certain to tickle my twin's fancy.

As far as I'm concerned, the bitch got what she had coming.

2007-02-04T10:44:00.000-05:00

The television was still on when I found him.

2007-02-03T18:29:00.000-05:00

It Happened in the Bedroom.

2007-02-03T02:15:00.000-05:00

Head eats Head

2007-02-01T12:29:00.000-05:00

Button-up

2007-02-01T12:26:00.000-05:00

Katherine Hepburn

2007-01-30T00:38:00.000-05:00

Sarah, what do you think?

2007-01-29T13:43:00.000-05:00

Mr. Slam Piggy

2007-01-29T00:34:00.000-05:00

My first attempt at using watercolor pencils.

My Best Friend.

2007-01-25T23:52:00.000-05:00

Stacy, you're beautiful.

Fries, Onion Rings, or Wedges?

2007-01-25T01:09:00.001-05:00

--To walk-in customers who order dinner plates--

What is actually said.

CUSTOMER - "Could I order a fried scallop plate?"

ME - "Would you like a side of french fries, potato wedges or onion rings with that?

What I'd really like to say.

CUSTOMER - "Could I order a fried scallop plate?"

ME - "Would you like a side of gastric bypass and a breast reduction with that you filthy pig? Oh and by the way, you can't buy hot food with your EBT* card, so I hope you have cash to pay for this. And don't even try to use your WIC** vouchers here. We don't accept them. Here's some advice, the next time you get pregnant, do what your mother should have done and have an abortion."

--To call-in customers who order dinner plates--

What is actually said.

CUSTOMER - "Could I get a clam strip dinner plate?"

ME - "Would you like fries, onion rings or wedges with that?"

What I'd really like to say.

CUSTOMER- "Could I get a clam strip dinner plate?"

ME- "Would you like a side of go fuck yourself and don't ever call here again with that? And you may as well order an extra-large steak and cheese to go with your filthy fried seafood, 'cause in five minutes, you're going to realize what a fat hog you are and call back and order more food. If that happens, I'll be forced to give that musky clam strip between your legs a proper cunt bunt."

*Electronic Benefit Transfer (EBT) is an electronic system in the United States that allows state governments to provide benefits to authorized recipients via a plastic debit card. Common benefits provided via EBT are typically sorted into two general categories: Food Stamp and Cash benefits. Food stamp benefits are federally authorized benefits that can only be used to purchase food. Cash benefits include State General Assistance, TANF (Temporary Aid to Needy Families) benefits and refugee benefits.

**The Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants and Children (WIC) is a Federal assistance program of the Food and Nutrition Service (FNS) of the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) for health care and nutrition of low-income mothers and children under the age of five. This program is unrelated to the USDA's "Food Stamp" program. The Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants, and Children was enacted in 1972 by Senator Hubert Humphrey (D) of Minnesota and made permanent in 1975. USDA’s revamping of this program would provide more fruit, vegetables and whole grains to the diet while cutting back on the amount of dairy products. USDA has proposed these changes to reflect updates to the food pyramid introduced 2005. Dairy interests in Washington, D.C. both producers and manufacturers, have vowed to rally their constituencies to register displeasure during the public comment period in October 2006.

Romy327

2007-01-11T12:27:00.002-05:00

I feel like I'm finally ready to tell this story...it will come in parts.

The story really begins during my first semester at BU. It was Fall of 2000; Clinton was still president, Napster wouldn't be shut down for another year, and I was wondering if I'd ever grow facial hair. With all first semester woes aside, these were very carefree times. And like every other kid in the dorm, I'd spend my carefree time chatting on instant messenger, AOL's ubiquitous online chat program. At the time, my good friend at the University of Washington was going through a difficult breakup with her high school sweetheart of four years; a guy named Dan. It was one of those messy college freshman year breakups -- an event that fueled our multiple and daily instant messenger conversations. Megan told me that Dan was on the rebound and that he was dating a girl that he and Megan had both known in high school. Like Dan, this girl attended Whitworth College - an institution designed to integrate Christian faith with higher education. And like Megan, this girl had a head full of dark banana curls. The curls, in Megan's mind, were what wrote her off as nothing more than a rebound girlfriend for Dan. So as a function of this prevailing melodrama, our IM conversations generally regressed into vitriolic rants spurning Dan's new paramour. I don't recall the precise sequeli of chat bubbles that led to this, but during one of our repartees, Megan revealed the screen name of her curly-haired replacement...Romy327. And with that, my bizarre, appalling, hopelessly outlandish comedy of misfortune began...

You Go Girl

2007-01-10T03:18:00.000-05:00

Gloria Steinem, eat your heart out...

--The true unsung heroines of the feminist movement.--

When you squint your eyes, they both look like Nancy Pelosi.

Coincidence?...I think not.

"May I Be Excused to Move My Bowels?"

2007-01-06T00:33:00.001-05:00

I was on the phone with Stacy tonight. Something we were talking about sparked a memory I had had earlier. This memory came to me when I was at work; a childhood vignette that flashed into my head around 8:30pm while putting a pizza into the oven. Here it is:

This story really demonstrates how easily you can get a child to do exactly what you say, without question, and with a total forfeiture of any dignity they may of had otherwise. -- It all started with a very pragmatic inquiry I had about using the bathroom. I was in my first few months of kindergarten; everything was new and everything was social. And I certainly wasn't going to risk being publicly ridiculed by kids who may or may not still be wetting the bed. So I asked my mom about bathroom protocol. More precisely, what to say when you have to use the bathroom. This is what she told me:

When you have to go pee tell the teacher that you have to "urinate." When you have to go poo, tell the teacher that you need to "move your bowels."

Even at age five, something told me that asking to go to the bathroom shouldn't be this difficult. Despite this, I was resigned to the fact that no other options existed. I was on the playground when it happened. At some point during a vigorous game of tag or red rover or something, I realized that I had to take a dump and that it couldn't wait until the end of recess. An internal struggle ensued, ending in the conclusion that I just had to ask the teacher if I could be excused to "move my bowels." I actually had to say the words "may I be excused to move my bowels." And god's honest truth, I actually went up to a teacher and said, "may I be excused to move my bowels?" With compassion, I was led to the boy's room. I found a stall and the teacher left me alone in the bathroom to take care of business. I'm not sure how much time passed, but I recall hearing the teacher pop her head into the bathroom and say, "Peter, what are you doing in there?" I told her, "Um, I'm still moving my bowels." After that, I was allowed to finish up at my own pace. And that's where the memory ends.

p.s. I have no recollection of any instances where I had to ask special permission "to urinate."

Sight-Seeing in the North Country

2007-01-05T01:05:00.000-05:00

Early in the afternoon, I took it upon myself to go for a drive and shoot some photos. This is what I saw:

I pass this guy every day going to and from work.

I found this nativity scene only a few hundred yards down the road from the dinosaur sculpture. It was situated alongside Howie's Toy Museum -- a deteriorating old house that has been converted into a museum devoted to model trains.

Today was my first time passing through the town of Bath; just one town over from where I live. The lady at the general store offered me a free piece of fudge (butter pecan), so I bought the magnet pictured above.

The road passing over the covered bridge eventually took me home.

A small flock of wild turkeys were grazing in a field along the road I followed over the covered bridge.

This guy waved to me as I raised my camera and took the shot. I watched him in the rear view mirror; he turned around and stared my car down. Next time I see him I'm going to offer him a few bucks to take his picture. I like his blue helmet. At any rate, he was my last spotting. I was just a mile or so from my apartment when I took this shot.

Little Debbie

2007-01-04T15:37:00.000-05:00

A Decent Boldness

2007-01-01T14:58:00.000-05:00

Though it took Maynard Sundman a lifetime to become "decently bold," I feel as though I've achieved it in six months. I'm not trying to downplay his success. In fact, I've made daily withdrawals of inspiration from his proverbial "coin purse." With that said, let me explain my journey towards "a decent boldness."
Six months ago, I moved to northern New Hampshire. I'm working at an Italian delicatessen run by a zealous republican named Frank. For the most part, all of his employees, the town (Littleton, NH), and the entire region is republican. And this is what makes me decently bold. As a gay man, I've infiltrated the deli -- won the hearts and minds of my coworkers, mesmerized the clientèle with my charm and best of all, my best friend in Littleton is Stephanie Eaton - New Hampshire State Representative (R). Of course, no one knows I'm gay. Up here in the North Country, gay men are only referred to as fags and homos. The thing is, I've completely integrated. The other night I was at a bar and a red-faced, drunken local came up to me and shook my hand. He said, "I can trust you. You know why? Because you're a true mountain man. I can tell." All it took to elicit this comment was a bit of facial hair, some flannel and a can of budweiser. I'm treading a fine line here in the north country; skirting the boundary between acceptance and ostracism. It's a dangerous game that requires nothing more than...a decent boldness.