Before all the holiday hub-bub, your friendly neighborhood jman was invited to a kid’s party. Now that my kids are older, I try to avoid these things like the plague. But, this one was family related, and, it was on a farm (Yes. For real. An actual farm.). So, I felt kinda obligated to go.
Now, I live in the burbs, but I’m way closer to a city boy, then a farm boy. The closest I get to animals, besides the kids, the bird, the chinchillas (speaking of which, if anyone is looking for some new pets, I’ve got two chinchillas that are looking to break off to a new family. Fyi) is Snowflake. And even he’s more human than dog now, twisted and evil.
So, on this farm, I did what any good tourist does. I snapped some pics!
Those are cows. Yes! Real live moo cows. I didn’t even know they made real cows anymore!
You can’t really tell from that pic, but the farm had a ton of cows. I’d say at least 50 million, but I’m not a cowologist. Keep in mind, I visited this place in winter. Can you imagine how much it must stink during the summer?!?!? God damn! I know. I know. Spoken like a true city boy.
That’s a pig. Turns out all kinds of cool shit (as it were) comes from pigs. Bacon, sausage, pork chops, pork loin, pork rinds, hot dogs and scrapple (everything but the oink!). As well as spare ribs, salami and bologna.
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The farm had two pigs. I wasn’t able to get a pic of them together. They just weren’t having it. This isn’t some sort of Superman/Clark Kent thing. Trust me, there were two them.
And they weren’t your friendly “Babe” type pigs, mind you. As you can tell by the sign on the side of the pen. These are the kind of pigs that would cut you up and eat you for bacon if they had the chance. And thumbs.
From what I was told, one of these pigs was going to “meet it’s maker” very soon. My guess is that one of you lucky guys or gals could’ve been feasting on him/her within the recent past. Hey. Don’t get mad at me! It’s the circle of life. Believe you me, these pigs would cut you up and eat you for bacon if they had the chance. And thumbs.
It’s hard to tell from behind the chicken wire (as it were), but those are roosters. Cocks, if you will. There were five or six of them in the coop. Friendly enough to each other, as I could tell. But, there weren’t any hens around, either. I’m sure it’s a totally different story once the females get involved. You don’t have to be no farmer to know how cocks get around the ladies.
Then there was this guy. I’m not sure, but for all that’s holy, tell me it’s not sneering at me.
Image courtesy of:
Babe the pig: telegraph.co.uk