Late summer of 1987 an unusual story appeared in the international wire services. Wang Xianfeng, the daughter of Chinese peasants, was neglected by her parents and brought up by pigs¹.




   If you’ve got something better to do, go do it…


Otherwise, tiptoe through our DOOR.




                                    Her Parents Were Swine

           [If you have teeth, prepare to gnash them now.]


   Once upon a time, a little girl named Wang Xianfeng was raised by pigs in a rural hamlet of China. Behaving porcinely, she grew up wearing cute little pigtails and porkpie hats, happy as a pig in spit when her relatives, sweating like pigs, carried her around the farm on piggy-back.

   Devoted to the classics, she spoke pig Latin.

   Wang Xianfeng was an enthusiastic little pig gal. She squealed with delight over the works of Francis Bacon and went whole hog and hog wild for cartoon characters like Porky Pig and Miss Piggy, movies like Porky’s, novels like Swine Flu Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and plays like Pygmalion and Hamlet, which she loved to ham up. Naturally she rooted for the Arkansas Razorbacks pigskin program and picked her games on her ham radio set.

   Xianfeng was an exceedingly moral person. She hated apartheid, especially when Boars discriminate against pygmies. She knew that the practice was a pigment of the imagination, a hogshead of hogwash that could literally hog-tie and stymie an entire country and leave it pork mocked and squealing like a stuck pig.

   She never dated male chauvinist pigs who sell women a pig in a poke and then go squealing to their friends, One might as well cast pearls before swine.

   She also aboard swine who live high off the hog of pork barrel politics. Snout the right thing to do. It isn’t kosher.

   Xianfeng did have her faults. She could really be pigheaded about her room, which could look quite sloppy, like a pigpen or pigsty. And at meals she could be a real boar, eating like a pig, hogging all the food, and having a swill time pigging out on the trough, the whole trough, and nothing but the trough.

   I am hoping that my story of Xianfeng’s life will bring home the bacon for her. Then she can save her royalties in her piggy bank and eventually stuff them into a purse, which is, of course, made out of a sow’s ear.

        [What to take away from this? Although the author went everywhere, there was no reference to police.]


   ¹ From Richard Lederer, Get Thee To a Punnery (Wyrick & C0. Charleston, SC, 1988). Sorry about all this. The election madness drove me to it. (One other post on puns precedes this. Only one more will follow, I promise.)