A recap of the previous post:
Examples of how each was used:
"Does this tattoo look like a gang symbol?"
"If I was dictator of the universe, I would brainwash everyone by making them play Neopets all day long."
"This tempeh smells like ass and tastes of sadness and fermented bean curd."
"...exhausted by the number of funny dicks I've drawn today."
"I hear a screech and know that she has found the Mystery Poop." (I am very proud this was the most used word.)
^This is why we love you. All in all, I'm glad semester one at Bennington College has been a successful one, L-Nasty, and happy 19th birthday; this post's for you.
And now, what you've all been waiting for, how R-Nasty has been spending her so called "gap year..."
A day in the life, combining aspects of three different farms in Maine. Sorry if it's confusing:
6:30 AM: Try and wake myself up early enough to go running, without taking myself too seriously for the fact that I am waking up early enough to go running. Maine is cold and dark and also the whole state has the same area code.
7:00 AM: Goat milking. Sometimes I help, but sometimes Lisa, the farmer, needs her private milking time where I'm not there to use the teats as water guns (or milk guns, I guess.)
8:00 AM: Two hours of chores. Maine is still cold and dark. There are a lot of goats, which means there is a lot of poop. Monster, one of the male goats, is really sick, so day in and day out I scoop up puddles of diarrhea six inches in diameter. They are seriously all perfect circles; Monster must love his polka dots. Chores also consist of wrestling with a 500 pound barrel of hay, of which afterwards, I look like a 500 pound barrel of hay. Easily the most dreaded and most stressful aspect of my two and a half month trip.
10:00 AM: Breakfast:
11:00 AM: Time to spend quality time with my only friends. We talked about everything you can imagine, from old high school drama from where I want my life to be in 20 years. They're damn good listeners.
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| Selfies are still popular with Little Big Man, my favorite goat |
1:00 PM: Time to work in the dairy room and hang cheese balls (the closest I'll ever get to drawing dicks as L-Nasty does):
3:00 PM: A picture is worth 1,000 words?
6:00 PM: And that previous 3:00 activity gives us sometime to eat for dinner. Whoops, I think I got a little bit of blood on my crocks.
7:00 PM: Now it's time to help Andrew, the medical marijuana caregiver, in the grow room. There's so much pot and so many fluorescent lights that I get a headache. And it's 7:00, bedtime anyway. My sleeping quarters are calling me.
So I go outside, use the outhouse, and cozy up in my two sleeping bags, two pairs of wool socks, two pairs of long underwear, orange wool hat (wish I had two), and listen to the branches scraping on the roof of my trailer thinking it's Jack Nicholson from The Shining trying to get in. But I fall asleep anyway, and dream of milk and rabbit blood and why the hell am I farming in Maine in December. Whatever, maybe I should just play Neopets instead.
And AS IF THIS POST WASN'T A GOOD ENOUGH BIRTHDAY PRESENT for L-Nasty, here are some cats just for you (and our international readers, of course:)
Until next time, peace.
