“If you’re gonna milk us, we’re gonna milk you!” Betsy, the BAMM spokescow, proudly told this Modern Philosopher.
Scores of cows pounded their hoofs and mooed loudly in solidarity with Betsy’s statement. According to the literature handed out to the press corps, the large field in which the news conference was held was populated by cows from twenty-three countries.
“How do you think it would feel to have some stranger with cold hands yank on your udders repeatedly and take your milk, all without asking?” Betsy asked. “I don’t think you’d like it one bit. In fact, I believe you would charge them with sexual assault.”
Truth be told, Modern Philosophers, Betsy was right. I don’t want anyone yanking on my udders and stealing my milk. What kind of monsters are we?
“My fellow sisters have no problem with sharing our milk if you are willing to make some changes to the process,” Betsy explained once cooler heads prevailed and all the stomping and mooing had subsided.
“First off, we’d like to be asked if it is okay to touch us and take our milk. If we consent, we’d like the person completing the task to either warm his hands or wear gloves. Does that seem too much to ask?”
I told Betsy and her fellow BAMM sisters that it didn’t seem at all outrageous.
“We’d also like to be paid,” Betsy continued, and the other cows shouted their agreement with her statement. “We know that the price of milk is steadily climbing, and farmers are making money hand over fist, pardon the pun, from our product.”
What would cows do with money, though? And if they were paid, wouldn’t that drive up the cost of milk and perhaps decrease its popularity in such a bad economy?
“We don’t want money,” Betsy explained with a roll of her eyes as she used her tail to swat away a fly on her hindquarters. “We want better grass to eat. The good stuff that they use on the big name golf courses, soccer pitches, and baseball diamonds. And we want better accommodations. Barns are so low class, cramped, and smelly.”
That got the BAMM crew all worked up again, and they let loose with a chorus of moos that shook the field.
Of course, Betsy saved the best for last. We all knew it was coming, but it still sounded shocking to hear it actually come out of the spokescow’s mouth.
“Finally, if you’re going to milk us, you want to milk you,” Betsy purred. “And I’m not talking the fat ugly farmers in their ugly smelly overalls. We want beautiful, scantily clad milkmaids with ample bosoms. This one is a deal breaker, so if we don’t get to honk some hooters, the world needs to get used to eating dry cereal and finding something else into which they can dunk their Oreos.”
I could not find any large breasted milkmaids to comment for this article, Modern Philosophers, but I was able to speak to the next best thing…cheerleaders.
“Me, too,” added Brandee. “I absolutely love milk, and I’m proud of my breasts, so I wouldn’t mind letting the cows cop a feel. It’s the right thing to do.”
Clearly, this is a very small sample of the ample breasted population, but as a milk lover, I’m willing to put in the time talking to cheerleaders to see if they’d go along with what the cows are demanding.
I’d want the cows get what they want because milk is a very important part of a healthy diet, and I’m really not about to start drinking the milk of another animal.
Of course, I do feel like we are misleading the cows somewhat. If their biggest concern is being milked without compensation, then that means they are really in the dark about what happens when cows disappear from the farm.
Plus, I really love cheeseburgers, and I’d hate to find out what sort of compensation the cows would demand for that!