Sunday, March 6, 2011

Shalt cease to exist thou, late revolutionary cow!

(Random rants in air-sick pants...US-India flights : Where anything can begin)

The cow is a quadraped. It had 2 legs and then it started throwing a rant and started printing out essays exercising exceptional mind control thus obtaining two more. They were very oddly placed though. One on the frontish left and the other on the extreme backside right. To be fair, they might have been equally oddly placed to begin with. It kept falling to its side and rolling over but that is no fair excuse. Some say that might have justified it's use of arm cutting off related blackmail, but I maintain we should cut those bullock bollocks off. They might ask for wings next and we all know what happens when cows fly. They make for really poor jokes! It is gaussianly worse when they suffer from dysentery and have single horned unicorn super powers. Some religions worship the cow but after a tehelka expose we suspect that might have been a long wounded political nexus. The cow is quite large. That is certainly what a dwarf ant would say. On a related note, dwarf ants are protected by law. This is not the first kind of fiendish fetish Jude Law has been known to possess. Even some flights and some more buildings are allergic to the number 13. The people on the 14 th would be foolish not to know which row or floor they are actually at. Cows are believed to be behind this fad. It may be noticed that mad cow disease has exactly 13 letters in it. So does Jude Law fetish. If the cow would have had a Facebook page it would have had a few friends. Most of us just like it dead. Killing the said facebook page would get far many more likes. Apparently some chicks dig chewing cud. It is a mystery however how that got buried in the first place. The chicks may also be chewing cud while digging. The reported conditions are most definitely ambiguous, but the one thing we know for certain is that the chicks were unsuccessful in their possibly nefarious motives by the heroic warriors from Kentucky. It should have been apparent by now that I don't have the slightest clue as to how to end this essay on cows. I guess this shall end, when, you, my teacher award me the three short of maximum marks possible on this piece. Put in the remaining three marks on the main sheet of paper and reattach the piece of paper you previously preciously marked to the aforementioned main sheet. I must sincerely warn you though; your mindless compliance of my spatially and temporally remote instructions doesn't bode too well for your future prospects as a hopeful non victim of more notorious crimes. The cows seem to have already taken control of you. An essay on cows seems to be something a cow would derive pleasure from. I cannot however rule out you being a cow either; you know with the horns, large ears, long face, attribute of being made of flesh, rubbery skin, associated genitals and all, it sure could be misleading at times. The only thing saving you the misplaced identity might well be, you know, your small, and I mean really comparatively small ermmm... I don't know how to put this sensitively..... ribs. You wouldn't make for a good meal.

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