For a long time now I see you pass by in trucks that carry you to be slaughtered and every time a tear falls on my cheek as I wonder how senseless it is to take your defenseless sweet pink body and slaughter it to oblivion for some pulled pork sandwiches. The rotten flesh to be carted back down the highway for recycling and poured into some dog food creation or god knows what.
Well, hello. Now all of a sudden it has become apparent that pigs carry disease. A virus that is deadly to humans and now people everywhere don't want to eat you, be near you or even think about you. Good. Things happen on this planet for a reason. I'm not going to give you poor little piggies the God speech. You'll read my blog and be able to tell that I don't always capitalize the word god (see above) and sometimes I do believe *Steve* when he says that aliens planted life on the planet and come back to visit every so often for an anal probe or too to even up the score. See, this earth planet of ours is a closed system, it is finite. What we do here stays here and it never disappears. When we get decide to act carelessly on this planet and treat the world as if it were infinite pumping piggy poop out left, right and centre, we get what we deserve. A swine flu.
If you care enough to read more about my piggy friends and want to make a difference by limiting your bacon intake for a little while or longer, please read about this Factory Hog farm in Tewksbury, Delaware. No relation to our fine Olympic swimmer, Mark Tewksbury, who now hosts "How Things are Made" on the Discovery Channel and once shook my mother's hand.
signed, the willow
When we head into Toronto, it is important for us to dress up like "glamourous movie stars".
And him? He's merely believing that that sandwich ad behind him will come to life and he will meet meat again.
The face? He's so proud. She's so tired. Oh boy, we just got here!
Then we began our posing sessions.
I bet we convinced some people that we are in fact genuine, glamorous movie stars.
T-Rex was there.
This is how I am going to set up my living room. I've always wanted to have opposing chair conversations. It was fun until *Mila* had to sit in each and every chair with all possible configurations of her parents.
*Mila* was too petrified to rub Timmy Eaton's brass shoe. He was rather daunting, hiding in the corner of the basement of the museum.
We soon grew tired. So we threw ourselves on the subway to catch that GO train home. We became more glamorous and mysterious on the train ride home.
Oh, and ponylicious.
Don't ask. I just was intrigued with the colour of this Valvoline truck sitting out back. Question: Did he go to get himself a Starbucks? Did he run into the 
