A post for bubbleheads...
...especially those of us who were stationed in Groton, CT. Because you're the only ones who will "get" the commentary at the end.
GREAT FALLS, Mont. (AP) - A pig wrestling competition at a county fair in northern Montana has been canceled after the porkers eluded fair officials trying to round them up for the event.
Fair office manager Shirley Embleton says the wild pigs spend the year on a 10-mile free-range property along the Marias River and about 30 are captured the Friday of the scheduled event.
But this year, fair officials were only able to locate one boar, despite flying the river. The event was postponed until Saturday, but neither the landowner nor fair officials could locate the absent pigs.
Embleton says next year, organizers will devise a new plan to locate and capture the animals earlier in the week.
They could always go to the DelMar Cafe on Rte. 12 in Groton if they're running short of porkers.
Sorry for anyone who doesn't understand the joke. But I couldn't pass the chance up. It's a crude and tasteless reference to a local watering hole frequented by large barhogs. How large might you wonder? Minimum size ass allowed into the establishment would be about three axe handles wide.
One of those "had to be there to understand it" type posts.
9 comments:
Not only am I familiar with that place, but I served with an officer who met his wife there.
Ouch!
Ah, interjecting a little sub humor in to your posts I see. You say 3! axe handles, OMG! That is a whole lotta pork.
Pops
Arby, I'd think that would be something he tried to keep quiet. Guilt by association can really stink!
Pops, as Arby, Cookie, Vigilis and various other former sub sailors will attest, it was "hog heaven".
Ahhh Yes! The "DelMar Cafe", remember it well matey! I was always surprised that the floor didn't collapse under the weight of some of them "Super-Porkers". Gotta say though, even at my horniest after a three month cruise I never went home with any of em. I still have nightmares about some of em.. ;-)
The was a similar bar in Bremerton, Washington, where one went to pick up Bremerillos. If you place your flat right hand horizontally across your left index finger you get a good idea of the ratio of butt-to-bar stool.
Cookie, yep. Those women would give anyone nightmares. When I was there the common tale was that you could find one to take home just by throwing some cracked corn on the dance floor.
Arby, how did they get off the barstools, with a shoehorn?
Hey Subvet!
Nice post. My Dad retired from the Groton Sub-base in 1984, and in honor of his reunion on the U.S.S. Enterprise, which he just returned from this week, I've decided to start following your blog:)
hon, I'd bet it took more than a shoehorn to get THAT off the barstool.....sounds like a surgical removal instance to me!
Butter. I think they smeared it on the insides of the door frames, too.
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