dedicating this entire blog to The Pig.
It’s been a strange year, innit? This worldwide pandemic, epidemic cough thing came on and for a moment everyone was freaking, and then everyone said ah nah it’s alright, and then well, we’re not sure. And as with any of these kind of things, occasionally they can hit close to home.
Tonight I was watching the news and they sez the first The Pig death in victoria happened—a man from small country town, where I incidentally used to live. And then I rang mum, and fuck me if it wasn’t someone I knew. Indeed, someone from my school, year level, and to tell the truth, from my peer group. That is to say, one of the people who was a peer. I, we, a good 10 or 12 of us were the genuinely unpopular. Not good at (ball)sports, not good with girls. Except downball. A few of us were good at that (not me) – we’d play it against the library wall. Not that downball ever had much prestige. Although I hear that “handball” is now an Olympic sport, so go figure.
Anyway, the deceased, I won’t mention his name, had always been overweight, and that was what got him entry into our loosely gathered group of misfits. He copped a lot of shit for being fat, and I’m sure it didn’t help. It was genetic to a point, but also the vicious cycle of eating because of not feeling good, and so on. Like Fat Bastard in Austin Powers.
He liked old Western ‘dime paperback’ novelettes and the original Albert Broccoli James Bond paperbacks. I remember once we had a sleepover at a friend’s house, and he was there – and I saw him just with his jocks on—and they were like normal jocks except there’d been separate elastic band sewn around the waist so they’d fit. I guess never did all that well at school. Mum said he’d been driving taxis for a living in aforementioned small country town, but then stopped a few years ago. Rest in peace big guy.