LACTOSE INTOLERANT
I shot a cow because it was crippled and couldn’t walk. Then my dad sold the dead cow to the Amish for meat. We couldn’t sell it to anybody else because it wasn’t “choice.” My dad loved everything about cows: barns, ice cream, blintzes. He had me throw baseballs against the side of the barn like Bob Feller used to. My dad thought I might be the next Rapid Robert. Didn’t happen.
I planned to attend Ohio State to major in dairy science, but my high school buddies — all non-dairy types — talked me into Michigan, where I majored in diary science (creative writing).
After college I spent a year in Israel at a kibbutz milking cows in the refet (dairy barn). I like unpasteurized milk, but it’s hard to find. I like ordering milk at bars. Women love that. They say, “James Cagney!”
I have zero tolerance for the lactose intolerant.
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You can open a chain of milk bars and attract lots of pretty milkmaids. Btw, if you’re interested in serious, dignified cow lawn statuary I can steer you in the right direction….
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