Beware the Stampede as the Herd of Bovines Cometh

My Dear Rural Sir,

My my you are Mr. Popular lately. You’re wanted here; you’re wanted there. Here a Sir. There a Sir. Everywhere a Sir, Sir.

I jokingly asked you if the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders had arrived yet, and were they lined up at the door to see you? You said, “I think the Houston Heifers might be about.”

You moo-ved me sweetheart. Trust me, I am going to milk this for all it’s worth; no need for me to steer clear. I herd you.

Udder-ly yours,


We seek him here, we seek him there
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere!
Is he in heaven? Or is he in hell?
That damned Elusive Pimpernel?

With apologies to Emmuska Orczy

Hey Darling

Question:        What do you call a cow with no legs?

Answer:           Ground Beef

Question:        Why do cows wear bells?

Answer:           Because their horns don’t work

Question:        Why don’t cows have any money?

Answer:           Because the farmers milk them dry

Ok now we have got the cheap levity out of the way, I can now respond to your letter. I don’t want the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. I just want you.

You may wish to milk it for all it’s worth, but sadly it will be just like soy, a poor substitute. I want you and me together, in the flesh, and in the same place. I want nothing more than full cream, high in calcium, chilled, pasteurised and homogenised milk (and you in a milk maid’s outfit).

Lactosely Yours

From Sir With Love

©2014  Darling and Sir


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