I spit on rules with pork juice.

My mom married a Muslim, Okay. I just had to point out the reason I am writing this post. It was in the 90's when this happened. I remember when I first met him. I was eating a bologna, and cheese sub that I bought at a corner store across the street from us called the Underground Railroad. I loved going to that store because Mr. Boone made some great subs and he actually had penny candy. Anyways my "Step On Me Father introduced himself to me and as he did this, I was taking a bite into my sub, and he made this look on his face like he was grotesqued out of his mind by something I did. I would figure this out later on when I found out that him and my mom got married like a month after meeting each other, which in turn tore me away from my cousin James and my Aunt Lori (we lived together). I could tell that the minute I saw that look on his face, him and I were going to have problems (boy did we). Immediately after moving out of our home, my mom tells me that the whole Christian thing (not in those words, but by actions) was wrong and that we would have one more Christmas, but after that it would be no more. Boy was I really beginning to hate my Step On Me Father. The one thing that clinched it for me was when I was told that there would be no pork in the house (Worse possible torture). I was pissed, I went on a rampage. You can take Christmas from me, you can tear me away from my second mom and my brother at heart (because I can still go and visit them), but the one thing you will not, and must not do is tear me away from my porkchops! They did and I was mad, because I couldn't have pork in the house, it was beef this, or chicken that (don't take this wrong I love chicken). I couldn't have pepperoni on my pizza, couldn't get subs from the Underground Railroad (Mr. Boone was retiring anyways). I remember I used to look forward to going over my dads house for pizza, although it wasn't as often as I liked it, and they didn't have porkchops either.

I remember one time I stayed the weekend at my dad's house and him and my stepmom ordered pepperoni pizza. They left it out over night and when I got up the next morning I was going eat some more, but my dad told me not to because it was left out, and the cheese would make me sick. I insisted, but he said NO, so I had pork withdrawal symptoms for the rest of the day.

You just don't know, there are times when I just throw that "No Pork" rule right out of the freakin' window, and just go berserk. Sneak a pepperoni pizza in the house, buy a bacon mushroom melt from Wendy's. Just yesterday, I bought a box of pepperoni pizza Hot Pockets. I still haven't managed to get my hands on some porkchops in the last 15 years.

Man I can't wait to get my own place. Then I will make my own set of rules. Anyone against me eating pork, whether it be in my past, present, or future, will have to watch me eat a pepperoni, and watch me eat it slowly and see the drool slip from my mouth. Including my mother, and my step on me father who isn't welcomed in my home, but I will let him come and help me move. He will still have to watch me eat a pepperoni in his case it will be a sausage.

My Pork Poem:

I love Pork,
Pork Loves me,
Get a taste of that swine,
and you will gladly,

Get Hooked on Porky,
and it will be good to you,
Won't you join me,
and say you love pork too!