We say welcome to Cincinnati:
where pigs fly, we put chili on our spaghetti, and diaper need is being eliminated, one baby at a time.
One memorable day, teaching Lord of the
Flies and nearing the part
where the marooned boys cut off the
pig's head, place it atop a stake, and engage in a form of primitive worship, I drove to an old - fashioned Italian butcher shop in Boston's North End and bought an honest - to - God
pig's head — the gnarliest, bristliest one in the store.