Im not being racist, Im just saying your pig tastes funny.

That was, hands down, the funniest line tonight at improv class. It was a scene at a county fair between a judge and a farmer, about the farmer’s pig. It wasn’t our first or last pig oriented scene of the night. The first was a scene between me and Brandon–he was my farmer father who’d butchered my 4-H pig. Later in the scene, I think Knute had to step in and take over my role.

It was a fun, fun night, but a small, small class. That’s the thing about starting with 10 people in the total call roll. Mark continues to be a great teacher, but the eye contact is a little unsettling. I can’t tell if everyone gets it or just me, but I nearly crawl out of my chair every time he looks over. Not in a bad way, just in a “Look at someone else for a millisecond” sort of way.