18 October 2013

Part-time cow fan, part-time sausage roller

There's a lot to love about cows. Sadly it's part of my job to turn them into sausages. Life at the station is getting more bizarre every day. I'm a cleaning lady who feeds calves and then bibbidi-bobbidi-boo magically turns their mom into a bundle of sausages. 

Look at these cute things! They have the talent to make the most bitter, cynical human being's heart melt to liquid.

            

Oh and this one, a little baby:


She actually thought I was her mommy for a while. I adopted her when I found out her biological mom was on an endless holiday in cow heaven (our freezer).


My heart sunk to my stomach and my head felt dizzy. I escaped reality and entered my own dreamlike state where I made colourful shapes with Play-Doh. Pushing clay through a tube to make toy sausages. my childish brain is strong enough to keep me going like that for a long time. After a day the mommy looked like this:


I was a vegetarian for many years and this job would have given the old me the creeps. Now I live in the outback with the world's most tightly trousered cowboys who live on meat and beer, I tend to man up. I grew me a pair of balls and got used to the smell of dead cow. When the job was done, I washed the pieces of meat and blood off my clothes, put on my long dress, got a castration and watched P.S. I Love You while eating chocolate cake. 

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