That Pig Life

Did you really just ask me that? Thank you. I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me that my whole life.

If I could be any animal on earth, I would be a big, fat whopping pig. When I say fat, I mean fat fat, as in the Americans who eat McDonald everyday fat. Sorry, that was mean. Disclaimer though, I’m American. Anyways, back to my main point, I want to be a pig. All they do is lay around unproductively, which is exactly what I spend my everyday life doing. I belong in the body of a pig, and I’m sure that if God was up there, he probably realized he packed my soul into the wrong body.

Pigs are my spirit animals. They roll in mud with no care in world, dirtying their luscious skin of pink while chomping on disgusting pen food. That is so me. I love eating disgusting pen food. Kidding, but I do love food. Which brings me to my next point: pigs don’t have to care about their weight. Literally, they can just eat whatever they want, gain a ton, and it’d be considered normal for them. If I even gain a few pounds, my aunts swarm around me asking me if I upped a few. Yes, I did, Aunties. Don’t roast me anymore. But yeah, pigs are neato. Becoming one of them is on my bucket-list.

Note: Pigs are my favorite animals and this answer was TOTALLY unbiased and based on logical facts.