This is for those who did not round second base in middle school.
Every morning, once we finish with the 14 stallions, we milk the female goat. Just one goat.
This is an example of how one woman can be more trouble than 14 men. Milking Lady Goat, who will remain anonymous, is a lesson in anger management. The girl must be tied to a wall by both her neck and her waist. This doesn’t prevent her from abusing the milk bowl by kicking or defecating in it, but it does reduce the chance that she’ll abuse us.
One fine morning I was thrilled to have squeezed out a nearly full bowl of milk that was dotted with only a moderate sprinkling of black fur and feces. You couldn’t eat it with cereal, but the sight of it wouldn’t make you gag. Progress!
But Lady Goat would not be had. When I reached to untie the neck, the goat bit me squarely in the nipple. “Whore!” I swore, but considering that I had just pinched Lady Goat’s nipples for twenty minutes, I rephrased: “Touché.”
The bitch fight continues. May the best girl win