cows, the end of days

hi there

well, amongst other things, look you see, my monitoring and observing of what the cows are all getting up to is coming to an end. it's been a thankless task, with no acknowledgement from the UN and certainly no offers of getting married off of George Clooney for me, but i don't mind. i have been happy to bring you the warning signs.

mostly, dear reader, the cows have been absent from my life, as in they have not been conspiring in a field near where i happened to be of a morning. that changed this week.

there are more cows in this field than you can possibly imagine, unless you are some sort of weirdo or strange type and can imagine more than 15 or so of them.

yeah, i appreciate that you cannot see them all in this picture - in fact probably about none is the amount you can see. well, unless you are really good and observant and can spot.

you can't see them because they are crouching down, poised ready to attack. honest. they look like class ninja sort of things, or maybe like them commando fellas off of the army. they seemed to be just waiting, ready to pounce, ready for action, or if you like ready to attack.

oh sure, some might say, or even argue, that the cows are simply having a nice lie down. that would imply that the cows had done something which had tired them out, would it not? like, for instance, plotting to overthrown the incumbent superior species on the planet - us - and thus needed a rest.

away from the cows for a moment, and here's an empty bottle of booze which had been discarded by a tree.

yeah, the zoom on the blueberry is not all that great, so i am not sure what it was. i do, however, remember that it has the word "cock" in its name, and that is why i took the picture.

Spiros, you see, likes the drink. he in particular likes the drink that is either cider in style, or has some point of relation to the word "cock". whatever this actually is i shall soon know, for he will be off down the offy, waving this image at the proprietor of a licenced seller of drinks that get you all sh!tfaced, demanding that he be sold a bottle of it, along with a straw or a funnel. 

here, with a bit more zoom magic you can make out where the cows lurch and wait in attack.

you won't let it drop, will you? i can hear you argue still, suggesting that cows might be tired from doing something else other than plotting the downfall of man. what would that be, exactly?

the life of a cow is awesome, and one they should be content with. for the most part, right, it's all just sort of standing around in a field, eating grass. frequently, though - and for free - the not only get smart hand jobs, but the, as it were, produce of them gets sold at a profit by retailers around the world. after that it's all getting a few bits cut off of them to make classy belts, and then a very expensive execution so that we may all eat fine cuts of steak. there are probably plenty of people out there who would jump all over a taste of some of that life, believe you me.

is this the last post on the cows i will be doing? perhaps. we will have to see how often my life takes me past them from here on out.

if the cows have taken over and you are reading this, you are the resistance.



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!