Mooooove Over Butter!

So I was talking to Drew about frustrations at work. How there are those of us who bust our ass for along time and reap very small rewards. I had come to the conclusion a long time ago that if I was ever given the choice of magically becoming/doing anything I want.... I would want to be a prize dairy cow.


Me and my posse... taking a little break.

So what about being a dairy cow made me lick my lips for cud.

Just think about this... you're a valuable asset to the company, you are taken care of by quality physicians, all you do all day is EAT EAT EAT... and you get your boobs massaged twice a day! What more could you possibly ask for?!?

The basic week of a Dairy Cow in a Photographic Journal:

The Monday Look: what are you looking at? I'm a cow. That's right... move along.


The Wednesday Look: what I wouldn't give for some scratching behind the ear right now.


The Friday Look: it's time to paaaaartaaaayyyy! I can almost touch my nose with my tongue... see!


Chew on that for a little while, then digest it in your first stomach, spit it back up, chew some more and then digest in your second stomach!