Pig Roast '01

It was my first summer away from my parents and my roommate and I were determined to make it a good one. We had the idea to have a house party for the Fourth of July. The Fourth was a work day that year so we had to plan some prep beforehand. I woke up early the day before (I think it was a Thursday) and headed to the Clemson University Swine and Bovine Department where I met the man who would sell me my first pig. I drove a 1983 Toyota Corolla wagon back then and just planned on transporting the pig back to the house in the back of it. I threw some dirty laundry in the back and covered that with plastic bags so the pig wouldn't get my car dirty. I wasn't aware of the gross anatomy of the pig. It turns out that the pig's "pocket" (see the post about BOGO's pocket to understand that reference) is directly under the tail and it's contents exits horizontally before falling. All this meant that as I was driving down the highway to drop the pig off at the house before going to work, the pig was backing against the inside of my car smearing it's excrement all over the place. It smelled so bad that I remember passing a dead skunk and sticking my head out the window thinking, "Ah, fresh air!"

We killed the pig, put it on a spit, and roasted it all day and had a great Great GREAT house party.

Fast forward about 2 months.

Remember all those clothes I put in the back of my car under the plastic bags for the pig to have a comfy ride? I didn't. I forgot all about them after I got the pig home and bagged the clothes and put the bags in the shed. I noticed that some of my clothes were missing and even asked my roommate if he had borrowed them because I hadn't seen them in a while. He said he didn't know about them and then I remembered - they were in a big trash bag in the shed because they had pig poop on them. The next day I went to the shed to get my clothes and take them to the laundromat. I slowly opened the bag and took a hesitant whiff and, to my surprise, it wasn't too bad. It was still pig poop, but it wasn't fresh and that meant it wasn't too bad. I deemed it safe to take to a laundromat and headed down the street with my bag of clothes and box of detergent. Arriving at the laundromat at the same time was a couple of girls. Yes, they were cute and flirty looking and although I had zero interest in asking either of them out, I didn't want to look like a goober in front of cute girls. With that in mind, I grabbed the bottom of the trash bag my pig poop clothes were in and I quickly jerked it out and up thus inverting the pile of clothes and pulling off the bag in one move. Bad idea! Apparently in the 2 months that the clothes were in the bag in the shed, a crust had formed over the top which sealed the stench and by inverting the pile I had unleashed upon this laundromat the most foul, fermented pig poop, moldy dirty laundry smell imaginable. The smell was so strong that it filled the entire building immediately. There was no escape. The girls gagged, giggled, and ran out and I barely got my clothes loaded into the washers without barfing myself. It's impossible to be cool when your clothes smell like that.