when i was 13 my lil “boyfriend” lived down the street from my best friend, so we’d walk to his house. The land next to his house had cows. So I’d feed the cows the grass they couldn’t get to, and we’d mooooooo together. They thought I was f*cked up. But i think thats why they love me.

Mooing is awesome, and has become one of my standard ways of greeting my friends, allies, and associates.

In Wales in 2005, I went out for a twilight walk in the countryside. I came upon a herd of cows. I ventured over to the gate, pulled out a bunch of grass from the ground, reached over the gate, held it out to the nearest cow and said: MOOOOOOOoooooooooo. All at once, they all stopped their chewing and munching and looked over at me. Slowly they all started making their way over to me, congregating infront of me near the gate. Not a single moo in return. They all just looked at me. Every now and then one would chew. So we stood there, looking at each other. About twenty cow heads looking at me. I think they were contemplating me and what I was. It was rather earie. We shared a moment those cows and I. My Moooo interrupted their evening dinner we exchanged looks in the earie Welsh twilight and went our seperate ways. I’ll never forget that evening.

MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

My plan is to Moo, upon which I will meditate and get psyched up good so it will be a realy good moo, man. Like, wow. So don’t mess with me!

...

moo!

moo

Something.

moo