Seven - Response Buckets

'Answer me this, If your tears tasted like chocolate milk how much would that affect how much you'd cry the day your favorite pet dairy cow died?' I asked the waiter. 

'When you really want to make a monkey irate do you call it names or just act like you're not bothered by the names it calls you?'

'How many cubes of ice do you like on your spaghetti?'

'Do you consider doors to be more like giant misshapen straws or more like a leaky pool at a waterpark?' 

'Do you ever take a photo of something pretty without immediately making plans to take photos of that photo, and if not why are you even taking a photo, you wasteful dick?' 

'Do you buy your nuclear waste on the black market or through a worker with the official channels working off the books?'

'When you snap at people do you normally choose a towel, a rubber band, or their own legs post dipping them in fast drying elastic plastic'? 

'Who is your elastic plastic guy, and does he work on Good Sunday?' 

'How do YOU misspell Aruphamt?'

'Out of Lemurs, Manatees, and Toucans, which animals blood do you find changes stickiness the most on full moons'? 

'When in the rainforest what gage nets do you prefer to be trapped in?'

'What about when you're in a far less humid yet equally as vegetative environment?' 

'What's your favorite type of wood-chip to use to thicken up your baths?' 

'If your phlegm tasted like Parisian artichoke soup, how would that affect how much you'd cry the day your favorite flu-germ harvester got fired from his day job as an Aruphamt and therefore has to start charging you fifty percent more per bucket'? I asked the waiter. 

These may all seem like obvious questions to ask a stranger you're trying to get to know, but I wasn't asking them for that reason. No these were obvious yes, but they were also pertinent, and perticnity was very impertinent to me right now, I was trying to get a hold on his personality, his likes and dislikes, what made him tick, and what kind of explosion this ticking is leading to, and how dare he risk our lives by ticking like that near us? (And on a side note I was also trying to find a new elastic plastic guy, mine's decided to start taking off religious holidays, what an idiot, surely those are his busiest days!)

You see I'd paused a moment before putting my order in, knowing just how important this order would be, and the waiter had taken it upon himself to 'recommended' the, and I quote, 'tacos, they're great, but the enchiladas are some of my favorites too'. And I needed to know him inside and out before I could make a decision on whether to trust his recommendation or whether to spit it back in his face, possibly with some chewing tobacco mixed in, which would be hard because I didn't have any on me, and I had important stuff to attend to here, stuff that needed to be done in a BIG way, and NOW. I really did not need a trip to the tobacconist right now. Besides, my regular tobacconist was in a different county, and I'm not a disloyal dick. 

His answers, as it turned out, said a lot about him! And a lot is WAY more than hardly ever, possibly even a LOT more. They were as follows. 

'What?'

'Huh?' 

'Seriously?' 

'Come on!'

'Stop it'

'I said STOP it' 

'I told you earlier I don't want to answer your stupid questions'

'Just order something please'

'Or don't, I really don't give a shit'

'What? That's disgusting!' 

'I'm not even listening anymore'

'La la la, shut up or order something or I don't care'

'AAAGGHHHHH' And 

'Seven percent, is that what you want me to say, fucking seven percent!' 

Yep those answers said a LOT! A ton even. And even a ton in a situation when if someone asked you 'how much is a ton in this situation?' You'd answer 'a lot'. Yep those answers told me everything I needed to know about him. And they said it loud and clear -'I'm hard to get a handle on'! 

There was nothing I could do but think about this more. I could not even begin to think about what to eat with this hanging handle that was hard just dangling in front of my face. This was clearly going to take some serious pondering. And I HATE pondering on an empty stomach 'oh for crying out loud, just get me something BIG to eat, and get me it NOW!' I screamed him.

I mean I had retribution to take from him, and here he was making ME  ponder, what a dick! And retribution I would take, BIG retribution, and as soon as I had my food I'd take it NOW! 

To be peddled further*

*Like on a bike, a bike 'continuing' down a path*

*Paths are also great free places to store your spare buckets of flu-germ or exotic animal bloods, no one ever steals* them, I don't know why 

*Stealing being an act that makes you a dick! 

So ARE you a cow?

It happens to all of us occasionally, some of us almost regularly, we wake up in the morning with grass between our teeth, with a bell around our neck and a hankering for a fresh glass of milk, and we think 'holy shit, am I a cow?' 

For most of us this panic lasts a few hours, we'll stare in the mirror for while trying to spot human characteristics, we'll jump online and do some research, we'll eat something and see if it feels like four stomachs are working rather than one. But you can never really tell, and you just want someone to give you a definitive list of ways to tell if you are in fact a cow, but it doesn't exist. 

Well that is, until now!

How to tell if you're a cow: 

- Your childhood education went basically like this: 

'Mommy, where do I sleep'?

'You're standing on it'

'Where do I shit?'

'You're standing on it'

'What do I eat?' 

'You're standing on it'

Then your mother got turned into a purse.

- Last time someone was sucking on your tail they exclaimed 'mmmm tastes like cow'.

- All 8 of your dicks are leaking milk. 

- Whenever you are racist people say 'ah I can't be mad, you're black AND white..... Although not brown, you racist'.

- You're named 'Daisy', or 'Driving Miss' or half of any Morgan Freeman movie, 'Shawshank' or 'Almighty' or you have Gwyneth Paltrow's head in a box in your closet. 

- When people do a Christopher Walken impression near you, you can't help but be all like 'more cowbell? I don't gotta have more cow bell, do you know farmers use those so they can keep a track on us at all times? And also that they're uncomfortable and sometimes smell like rust?' 

- When they inevitably switch to Walken's watch monologue from Pulp Fiction, you're now all like 'oh a watch in your ass? You know how I get artificially inseminated? Farmer sticks his whole arm in my ass, I've got like ten watches back there!'

- Whenever you're eating steak part of you is thinking 'why does this taste like that one time I vomited so hard flesh came out'?

So there you go, finally a definitive way of finding out if you are, or are not a cow.

So how'd you go? Are you a cow? If so can you stop texting me, I don't swing that way, anymore, plus your hoofy typing leaves you WAY over punctuating, oh also, your vomiting flesh? That's not right, go see a doctor, or a vet, or just a barbecue, let's face it, that vomit you did tasted awesome!! 

Dairy and Injections

'Milks, milks plural, not milk, did I say milk? DID I??? No I fucking did NOT I said MILKS' Roger screamed at the farmer. 

Apparently there been a slight disagreement. 

You see, from what I can gather, Roger had asked a question involving milks but he'd been given an answer only involving milk.

Roger was now turning over chairs. 

Which, despite his tantrum inspired brute strength, was a decent effort, because those were heavy iron chairs, and they were covered in rust, and I am no doctor, but my instincts tell me that rust may increase the risk of tetanus.

By the way, I'm guessing it was easier to talk kids into getting their tetanus injections during the heart of the Tetris craze. 

'Hey Sammy, we're going to fit something small into a space that on the surface may seem unlikely to fit, but in the end turns out to be a snug and satisfactory hold, want to come?' 

'Oh my god, Tetris, Tetris, Tetris? Yes PLEASEEE MOMMY'.

'It's actually pronounced tetanus Sammy.'

'Stop fucking correcting my pronunciations, I'm friggin' six, I haven't developed full control and command over my tongue and soft-palate yet you dick, it's not polite, now are we going to go play Tetris, sorry TEEETANUS, or am I taking a shit in your hand bag and pretending I thought it was potty again?' 

'Oh we're playing tetanus Sammy, in fact, I might even tell the "games master" we're about to go to Malaysia and see if he has any Malaria "Inserts" for you'

'Is that the "correct" way to pronounce "Mario Cart" cause if so let's get in the fucking car you god damn fucking tease'. 

Yep, it's pretty clear modern upgrades to gaming technology ruined parenthood. 

Now you probably have to trick your kids into copping physical pain for reasons they can't understand with ice-cream or chocolate. 

But where is the long term viciously held resentment and vow for revenge for parental figures supposed to be sourced in this brave new world?

It really is a crying shame. 

Roger was now kicking a cow.

His little replica kids sized farm boots pounding it's buttock region almost to the point of being bothersome. 

Sadly, burned butterscotch, Cherry Mocha, or even Roger's classic favorites Chocolate or Strawberry milk were never going to come out of this cow.

Little Roger's little brain couldn't understand. 

He kicked and kicked and kicked, until, a now clearly bothered, cow walked three paces, and Roger air-swung his boot so hard he landed on his butt. 

Seventeen years later Roger was asked by his then girlfriend if he'd ever tried butt stuff.

When he burst into tears for reasons he couldn't even fathom it really, really weirded her out. 

And she ended up experimenting with butt stuff with a hairbrush instead.