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April 08, 2006
Pug-a-lug!
Since apparently it's my duty to write about the business of pugging, I will explain here. Pugging was perhaps the most reprehensible way to spend a day as a youngster. It is, in a word, reprehensible. It involves taking all the old crusty dry clay and mixing it with the old sloppy wet clay and putting it in a big sausage grinder and having it come out like a big, evenly moistened sausage of resurrected clay. The shenanigans involved are usually due to the fact that my father is the one steering the ship, and, as youngsters, we just had to follow orders and hope for the best. It is, even without shenanigans, a slow and mind-numbing process, but add the shenanigans and suddenly it's 12 hours later and all your friends have gone out for pizza and a movie while you're still standing there in your work overalls blowing clay dust out of your nose. Matthew describing the experience as "a good time" makes me wonder if he is, in fact, bizarro Bob. Luckily, the two had great fun getting in some mind-numbing time together.
"Working hard! No time for your silly pictures! Only 17 more hours to go!"
"Must align so very carefully, or stacks of clay might topple and kill you!"
"Jesus, woman! Haven't you ever heard of work?! GET TO IT!"
"Yeah. In 17 more hours, do you think I can take a pee?"
Posted by ribbu at April 8, 2006 09:47 PM