"Earl's over in the woods porking Sheena," they said. It was a cold fall day and everyone was waiting for buses or just lingering, looking over toward the woods where Earl, who wore steel toed boots and began chewing tobacco in the sixth grade, was porking a girl. It was said.
It didn't conjure up a specific image for me, but it definitely was a trigger. Porking. Filthier than french kissing, nastier than the dutiful handjob, and definitely not kosher. And there was something completely macho and absolutely sexist about it. Dudes porked chicks. It was an asymmetrical act.
I still don't know what it means exactly other than to say that to be porked is to be slightly less abused than to be screwed.
Which is why I think it's the appropriate word for what Andre Greipel has accused Alessandro Pettachi of doing. "[Pettachi] went from the left to the right. I could manage to stay on my bike, but I think he didn't care what happened behind him. Maybe he didn't see me, but I think it was just not fair."
Basically, Greipel is saying, Pettachi porked me.
Pettachi denies even giving Greipel a basic porking; he suggests that, in fact, it was Greipel who porked him, stating, "I moved over slightly, but I gave him all the space he needed. In fact, he passed me."
The judges, upon reviewing the events, agreed with Pettachi that no one had screwed anyone at this particular junction. As to whether porking occurred, that is another matter.