Down on the Farm
Have you ever been chased from a field by a shotgun-wielding maniac? Ever removed city arseholes from your field whilst innocently carrying a shotgun? Tell us your farm stories.
( , Thu 24 May 2012, 13:19)
Have you ever been chased from a field by a shotgun-wielding maniac? Ever removed city arseholes from your field whilst innocently carrying a shotgun? Tell us your farm stories.
( , Thu 24 May 2012, 13:19)
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Fertiliser
Some of my earliest memories are of being on a farm. My grandad ran a small dairy farm. Hanging around in the milking shed at milking time was lovely: the slow, calm cows, happily munching. My grandad wiping the shit off their udders with a wet cloth. The heavy, sweet smell of warm milk. The cats, waiting for a spill, or for the froth off the milk filter. Wonderful.
The cows would congregate by a gate when it was near milking time, waiting to be let into the yard. The area by the gate would get chopped up, deep mud, full of shit. One day, I must have been about 4, I walked down there in my little wellies: the gate was open. I stepped into the mud, got stuck. As I tried to free myself I slipped and fell. The next image I have in my head is of walking into the farmhouse kitchen, covered head to toe in stinking shit. My mum was sitting talking to her sister. "They say it makes you grow", she said, as I burst into tears.
( , Thu 24 May 2012, 19:54, 5 replies)
Some of my earliest memories are of being on a farm. My grandad ran a small dairy farm. Hanging around in the milking shed at milking time was lovely: the slow, calm cows, happily munching. My grandad wiping the shit off their udders with a wet cloth. The heavy, sweet smell of warm milk. The cats, waiting for a spill, or for the froth off the milk filter. Wonderful.
The cows would congregate by a gate when it was near milking time, waiting to be let into the yard. The area by the gate would get chopped up, deep mud, full of shit. One day, I must have been about 4, I walked down there in my little wellies: the gate was open. I stepped into the mud, got stuck. As I tried to free myself I slipped and fell. The next image I have in my head is of walking into the farmhouse kitchen, covered head to toe in stinking shit. My mum was sitting talking to her sister. "They say it makes you grow", she said, as I burst into tears.
( , Thu 24 May 2012, 19:54, 5 replies)
this just proves my theory
that children are manipulative little shits who only cry when they know it'll get a reaction.
( , Thu 24 May 2012, 23:54, closed)
that children are manipulative little shits who only cry when they know it'll get a reaction.
( , Thu 24 May 2012, 23:54, closed)
Although surprisingly comfortable....
Once, running with a barrow up a wet plank of wood on a muck heap, the inevitable happened and over I went.
The slow-motion fall gave me plenty of time to know I'm going to be landing in hemp and horse dung, but when the 'man hit the shit' so to speak I must admit it was more like a nice warm (if slightly smelly) bed.
Most importantly, no-one saw it.
( , Fri 25 May 2012, 7:50, closed)
Once, running with a barrow up a wet plank of wood on a muck heap, the inevitable happened and over I went.
The slow-motion fall gave me plenty of time to know I'm going to be landing in hemp and horse dung, but when the 'man hit the shit' so to speak I must admit it was more like a nice warm (if slightly smelly) bed.
Most importantly, no-one saw it.
( , Fri 25 May 2012, 7:50, closed)
This is how it starts
www.thisislondon.co.uk/news/pervert-with-fetish-for-cow-manure-is-locked-up-6384125.html
( , Fri 25 May 2012, 9:01, closed)
www.thisislondon.co.uk/news/pervert-with-fetish-for-cow-manure-is-locked-up-6384125.html
( , Fri 25 May 2012, 9:01, closed)
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