Dirty dirty sex, or a dirty dirty pig.

My sister and future brother in law (JB--short for Johnny Bananas) have a new neighbor. A short, hairy, oinky new neighbor.

That's right... a pig.

The kicker is that they live in an apartment. And so do the people next to them, who own the pig. They also have three kids and a dog.

What is this, a clown car? Where do you fit all of these creatures?

JB told my sister a few weeks ago that he thought he heard squeaking, or some odd noise coming from the neighboring apartment. My sister told him he was crazy... until she saw the hog for herself. Standing in her upstairs bathroom a few days later, she could see down into the neighbor's back yard and noticed a wire fence, a kiddie pool, and a giant, brown PIG.

She immediately called JB and told him he had been right all along. And bowed down to his animal noise deciphering skills. Okay, maybe not so much. But still--he was RIGHT.

This was his reaction: "I knew it! I just... I heard oinking, and I thought... it's either dirty dirty sex, or a dirty dirty pig."

So until we figure out what the hell kind of circus act their neighbors have going on over there, we will continue to stand with our faces pressed up against their fence, trying to catch a glimpse of Wilbur the pig.