In like an emu, out like a tapir. Or a pig.

It's March. Quit asking where I've been. I've been busy, and that's all you need to know.

I am going to discuss pig-related things, because yesterday was National Pig Day. If you don't like that, go suck on a hot dog.

It was pointed out to me that I neglected a rant-worthy segue relating to whistle pigs, the topic of my last blog entry. (Yes, I just used passive voice. Deal with it. I refuse to directly acknowledge certain moderators who like to point things out to me).

Here it is: LINKY THING

That's Gus, the Pennsylvania lottery's attempt to capitalize on the popularity of its state's most popular groundhog. Piece of poorly animated quasi-pork, that. Seriously, he makes Lamie's animals look well-made and attractive. Next time you wish to complain about them (And you know you will. I certainly will if you don't), consider that AG could have charged you $34 for something that looks like Gus.

But wait:


Yeah, I can see the inspiration.

Really though, Gus? "Second most famous groundhog in Pennsylvania?" That's just sad. If that's your claim to fame, you need to re-evaluate your life. Or your ad campaign. Also, don't ask me why Gus is playing for The Eagles and not The Steelers. I'm thinking it was because the Steelers are too cool to associate with this kind of ridiculousness. Gus should think on that some more because maybe he shouldn't be joining a team that has Michael Vick on it. Just sayin'.

Enough of this quasi-pig talk. Let's talk about a real pig: John Mayer. Been following John-boy lately? Total pig. We can only wish that he'd be sucked down in that "whirlpool of selfishness, and greediness and arrogance" that compels him to do things like rag about the sex with old girlfriends and drop the N-bomb in interviews.

"But AJ," you ask, "why do you hate John Mayer so much?"

Because he's a pig.

I have it on good authority that he tours in the John Mayer Weinermobile because he is obsessed with his own weiner.


Look, musically, I could do better with my fused fingers and AG's plastic guitar. And I hold him partially responsible for that breathy vocal thing everyone thinks is so cool (much like Mariah Carey is to blame for the "Every Word Must Consist of 450982342 Notes" syndrome). And John Mayer, he writes things like THIS, which is really complicated shit about I don't know what.

No. Do not want. Let's get one thing clear, John Mayer: if you come anywhere near me with your sausage (yeah, you see what I did there?), I'll finish what Pink started. Me, I do not need any man to be the fucking "guide and weight" of my world, okay? Seriously, I have an Entourage for whom I am the guide and weight of their worlds.

Which reminds me, John Mayer: stop sending applications to join my Entourage. I won't have you. Because you're a pig.

I do have to step up and say that I don't get why Jessica Simpson thinks she can handle a pet teacup piglet when she couldn't keep a muzzle on John Mayer when they were dating. Then again, I need to remind myself that after the Mariah debacle, I'm done giving advice to stupid celebrity ingrates.

Sadly, pigs get a bad rep because of the likes of John Mayer. We should be celebrating pigs, not ridiculing them. I think AG should make a stuffed pig for its next GOTY character. The pig is truly a noble creature. In Germany, where they greet one another by saying things like "Ich Habe Schwein Gehabt," pigs are meant to represent good luck.

And also, pig parts are just plain tasty. Not as tasty as llama, granted, but tasty nonetheless.

So all hail the noble pig. And Pink, who knows a pig who needs kneed in the crotch when she sees one.

Replace all of your Playthings signature photos with pictures of pigs today. You'll be glad you did