My best friend was stationed in Misawa, Japan at Naval Air Station for 4 years. Every so often I would send him a tee shirt from the States, and passing through the uber southern state of South Carolina, I stopped at a Piggly Wiggly store to grab some things when I saw their “I’m big on the pig” tee shirt so bought one and sent it to him.
It amused me to think of him wearing this shirt in a place where Asian folks LOVE to have clothing items with English on them, and I’m sure he was the singular person in the Asia Pacific region that would be sporting this baby out.
One night he wore the shirt out to Izakaya. Going out to Izakaya means going to the bar with friends to drink and socialize.
Most Japanese can speak a couple of words at English, and some are fairly decent at it, but virtually all of them struggle with the sound of the letter “R” which ends of being pronounced with the sound of the letter “L.”
By the end of the night, my buddy’s new Japanese friends couldn’t remember his name so they just called him, “Piggly Wiggly-san,” but they would pronounce it, “Piggry Wiggry-san.”
That amuses me to no end for no particular reason.
It’s the little things in life.
Piggy Wiggry-san…. Funny.
When I was a kid in 3rd grade I went to a catholic school, a setting I never did well in but that’s a story for a different day. We were doing an art project and it was time to hand in the project. As I walked past my teacher who was bent over helping a student, I turned back to glance at her only to see her standing there looking at me with the strangest look on her face.
It wasn’t until years later and giving contemplation on her bizarre countenance that I realized what had happened.
My dad used to slap my mom’s ass when she walked by, and I had picked up the habit. Monkey see, monkey do, you know what I mean? She hated it, and quickly cured me of that habit. Or so I thought.
After reflection, I came to the realization that when I walked past her juicy round teachery ass, I must’ve slapped it. And in retrospect, the look on her face was hilarious.
Can you imagine the conversation in her home that night? A third grader had slapped her plump catholic ass the same way a hopped up patron at a strip club checks a passing stripper walking by.
You just can’t buy entertainment like that. It’s a naturally occurring event.