Twisty links to this new PETA ad and leaves very little comment, as if it’s obvious what’s going on.
I, however, am confused.
Is this ad supposed to make me want to stop drinking milk because I realize that boobs are fun body parts used primarily to give drunken men something to look at and so taking milk from cow’s boobs denies them their inherent right to let their boobs hang out without producing milk?
Or am I supposed to be grossed out by the reminder that milk comes out of boobs and that people drink milk and it comes from a body of a real living thing how gross?!
Or is this ad secretly making a point about the Girls Gone Wild videos, that people getting that excited over what are basically baby-feeding parts, is kind of silly?
I’m really suspicious that the answer is “two,” that I’m supposed to look at this video and get that cows udders give milk like a woman’s tits can give milk and that such milk giving–one of the main purposes of boobs–is gross.
Well, fuck you, too, PETA.
[Edited to add: It’s everybody blog about PETA day!]
Today, the Butcher and I saw a guy who was jogging at such a slow pace we both had to stare. But what made us bust up laughing was that, when he stopped to wait for traffic to clear, he paced around on the side walk. And he was darting back and forth at superhuman speeds.
I don’t know anything about running. I don’t do it. If a bear came out of the woods and the choice was to run for my life or just stand there and get eaten, well, bear, I’ve got some pepper spray in my pocket. Would you prefer me mild or with a little kick?
So, I must ask you–if you can walk very quickly, why would you be jogging around so slowly? Is there some health benefit to jogging that the fast walking can’t accomplish? Because, seriously, when walking, that dude was like a bullet shot out of a gun, but when running? Not so much.
So, I was going to go to bed an hour ago, because I was thinking “This day cannot get any worse” and then I thought, “Well, sure it could.” And so I had to stay up until I was sure the Butcher got home safely.
He is now home safely.
While I was waiting, I stuck W. and the Martini Ministry on the blog roll. Finally.
W. has met a nice artsy girl who wears sweaters with big bloody hearts on them when they hang out together. He likes her. She likes him. He’s looking for some courting advice. Go teach the young whipper-snapper how to properly pitch woo.