A GREASY DAY IN MULEGE

A couple of days ago, our friends, Carmen and Manuel, told us to meet them in Mulege for a fiesta at the square.
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We went and Co-pilot was ATTACKED by a rampaging pig.

But first, we saw some pretty neat greased-pole climbing contests. Damn...sure looks like fun to me!
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Many failed attempts amid much laughing and encouragement by the onlookers.


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Finally, one young chap made it to the top..
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and claimed the prize!
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Well, that pole climbing contest was a hoot for us and our hosts. Taking a short break we went to do a little shopping.

As we went walking down the main streets of Mulege in search of a cell phone for Co-pilot...

..we were suddenly in the middle of a Greased Pig Stampede!

LOOK OUT...PIG COMING!!


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I just had a split second to dodge left while taking this shot...that raging pig barely missed running me down. Whew..a close call.

Unfortunately, Co-pilot was not so lucky..the pig slammed into her and greased her left leg before she could scamper out of harm's way. Mulege can be a dangerous place on fiesta day, y'know.
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The pig chase roared right through us and on down the street...ending only when the boys overtook the greased porker next to El Candil.

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The victors return .. carrying the Hit-and-Run Pig. "To the Barbeque with Him!" I shouted.

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AND THAT'S THE END OF

A GREASY DAY IN MULEGE

...except for this timely pig poem:

The Irish Pig

'Twas an evening in November,
As I very well remember,
I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,
But my knees were all aflutter,
So I landed in the gutter,
And a pig came up and lay down by my side.

Yes I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter,
When a colleen passing by did softly say,
"Ye can tell a man that boozes
By the company he chooses" -
At that the pig got up and walked away