Do Ewes Use U's?
Instead of rambling on and on about the possibility that sheep may actually be able to talk, I’m just going to go ahead and state that no, ewes don’t use U’s. Animals can’t talk, unfortunately. Or fortunately, I should say, because the last thing we need is to feel bad about eating animals because they’re able to beg us not to. Well, that’s not the last thing we need. The very last thing we need is for animals to arm themselves and start a revolution, because animals outnumber us humans, like a billion to one. But I have a theory. We only eat animals that aren’t able to carry weapons. For instance, we don’t eat monkeys, because they have fingers and would be able to operate semi automatic weapons. Why else wouldn’t we eat monkeys? Because they’re cute? I beg to differ. Sheep are cute. We eat them. Do we not eat monkeys because their bodies are oddly similar to ours? Perhaps. Or maybe monkey meat tastes like crap. I don’t know, I’ve never tried it, never had the opportunity. I’m talking about both crap and monkeys. Never eaten either of them. A pig’s body is the closest to a human’s, though, so I hear. With the arrangement of the organs and all that. Our personalities are oddly similar, as well. But this hub is about sheep, damn it. Monkeys and pigs will have to wait their turn. I’m not sure they even deserve any of my attention. But you know what would be terrifying? A monkey army armed to the teeth and riding into battle on the back of pigs. If I saw that, I’d wet myself. We’d defeat them easily, of course, because we’d meet them with tanks and aircraft. The monkey army wouldn’t be able to defeat an aerial attack, not on the back of pigs. When pigs fly, then maybe the monkeys will have a fighting chance. But then there’s always the possibility that both the pig and the monkey on its back would get sucked into a jet engine and ground up into sausage. And if pigs could fly, we’d have to wash pig crap off our windshields and that’d suck. And the monkeys would be flinging their crap at people on the ground, once they ran out of ammunition for their assault rifles. But until the day that pigs learn to fly and monkeys learn how to shoot, they don’t stand a chance in hell against us humans. We have the thumbs and the upper hand. And the atomic bomb, if all else fails. We’d actually be prepared to nuke the monkey villages and encampments, whereas monkeys, if they ever got their hands on a nuke, would simply worship it, like they did in the movie Planet of the Apes. And the monkeys in that movie were organized and could actually fire weapons. See? I’m not the first person who’s ever thought of this scenario. Monkeys taking over the world is a common fear among humans. We fear that one day we’ll wake up and the Statue of Liberty will be destroyed and the world will have been taken over by talking monkeys. At which point we’ll all fall on our knees in the sand, and scream, “LOL you! LOL you all!” (I’ve taken the liberty to replace the profanity with something that doesn’t sound so harsh.) But this hub isn’t about monkeys, like I previously said. It’s about sheep, LOL it.
Actually, this hub isn’t about sheep, it’s about nothing, which is something I happen to know a lot about.
And if you’ve never seen the movie Planet of the Apes (I’m talking about the original movie and not the one directed by Tim Burton), then the last half of the above paragraph probably won’t make any sense to you. Actually, the entire paragraph probably won’t make any sense, I don’t care if you’ve seen all bloody five Planet of the Apes movies and the remake. Sometimes what I say doesn’t make any sense, but there is a method to my madness, I assure you. Meaning there is a good reason for my apparently foolish, strange, or illogical actions. I’m stupid. Hope that’s a good enough reason.
Okay, so my hubs are all the same, seems like. Not that they’re all about the same things, they’re just all pointless in a way. Ramblings. I start writing and I honestly have no idea what I want the hub to be about. The same goes with everything that I write or have written. I wrote a short story and I had no clue what it was supposed to be about or how it was going to end. And now it’s almost 900 pages long, perhaps the longest short story ever written. But what’s my point? My point is that these things tend to write themselves. I have no plan. I just say what comes to my mind. I think about monkeys a lot, not sure why. I wonder if they ever think about me.
I don’t know what it is about monkeys, but I find them interesting. I don’t believe in evolution or anything, but every time I see a monkey, I find myself thinking, “We’re the same, you and I.” I feel like monkeys have the same thoughts I do, have the same dreams, the same goals, the same achievements. The same desire to love and be loved in return. Monkeys and I do some of the same things. I don’t eat my fleas, but then again, I don’t even have fleas. I eat bananas. As a matter of fact, I keep a banana in my pocket, just in case I happen to run into a monkey on the street. And they’re always like, “Is that a banana or are you happy to see me?” And it’s always both. It is a banana and I am happy to see them. And then I give them the banana to show them that I appreciate their existence.
Another good way to make a monkey feel loved, is a moment of self-sacrifice. For instance…
I first met the monkey on a bridge. It was a real crappy day, a sky full of dark clouds that refused to let the sun shine, making it look more like night than three in the afternoon. The monkey was standing by the guardrail, looking down into the dark, dismal water of the river below. I stopped my car and got out, walked over to the monkey and stood beside it. I just knew the monkey was thinking about jumping.
“It’s a beautiful day,” I said, trying to cheer it up.
The monkey grunted, but didn’t break eye contact with the river.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Brandon,” the monkey replied, a little hesitatingly.
“Do you like Cheetos, Brandon?”
The monkey nodded.
“I have some in my car. What do you say we go over there and partake in some Cheetos together? Would you like that, Brandon?”
Brandon thought about it for a moment, then asked, “Can I lick the cheese off your fingers?”
I immediately narrowed my eyes. “That’s an incredibly selfish thing to ask, Brandon. You know that’s the best part about eating Cheetos.”
I sighed. “No, I’m sorry. You can lick the cheese off my fingers. I’d be delighted.”
See? Self-sacrifice. A good way to show that you care for a monkey. But I'm kidding. That didn't really happen. I didn't meet a suicidal monkey on a bridge and I didn't offer it some Cheetos. But I wish I had.
Me and a monkey, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the monkey pushing a baby carriage.
I know what you’re thinking. What the hell? Or maybe you’re thinking I wish I had some Cheetos. I don’t really know what you’re thinking. I’m not psychic. Maybe you’re thinking about how this hub is kind of like a mosquito, buzzing in your ear, sucking the life out of you as you sit there in your chair. Or on your couch. Or on your toilet, I don’t know. I’ve done that, taken my laptop into the bathroom with me. But since you’re thinking about mosquitoes, I’ll go ahead and talk about them for a moment. Not much to say, really. Mosquitoes are annoying. No one wants to be friends with a mosquito. Not even other annoying insects.
“Mosquitoes suck,” the fly comments, its mouth full of crap.
Then another fly looks over at it, and asks, “Do you ever stop to wonder if there’s more to this life than just eating dog crap and annoying humans?”
The fly doesn’t even pause. “Not at all,” it replies.
After all, flies don’t live long enough to ponder such questions. They just enjoy life. Scientists are always picking on fruit flies, trying to prove evolution by causing the defenseless insect to mutate, which never works, but who cares? The thing’s going to be dead soon, anyway, so it might as well go out in the interests of science. I wish someone would take out cats in the interests of science. Maybe drop them off a roof, try to disprove the theory that every cat lands on its feet. If they all land on their head, then I think we’ve accomplished something.
In conclusion, I’d like to point out that I’m against animal cruelty. I don’t care if the animal is an insect. All life is precious. I don’t believe in reincarnation or anything, but anything with life certainly deserves our respect. It seems like killing outside of our species is encouraged and quite legal. I can squash a praying mantis and get away with it. I could drag the bloody thing into a crowd of people and cut of its head with a silver sword and get away with it. No one would even care. I could probably even get away with doing it to a horse. That might shock some people, though, and it’d most likely be considered animal cruelty. Then why isn’t it cruel to murder a praying mantis? Our laws are so biased. It’s like we’re basing what’s considered animal cruelty simply on the size of the animal in question. Decapitating a horse is bad, but squashing a mantis is good. That’s like saying killing a human is bad, but killing a dwarf is good. See what I mean? We’re basing our perceptions on size. Or maybe just abusing an animal that has a heart is considered animal cruelty. Maybe no one cares if you punch an insect in the face. But why? Don't insects have life?
I don't hesitate to squish mantises, because I know what they're thinking. "I'm going to stab you to death and play in your blood."
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to discuss these types of things. If you take anything away from this hub, I hope it’s that all animals are special. They might not be able to talk or use U’s, but they still have feelings. They might even have more than that. Take dogs, for example. They have hearts. They have brains. They even have dreams. Who are we to say they don’t have souls, as well? Just something to think about. And dogs are able to learn. We teach them how to sit and stuff. There are a lot of animals that are able to learn. Monkeys, for example. They can fly space shuttles. Oh my God, that also means they’d be able to fly fighter jets. I’m starting to think monkeys might actually have a fighting chance if they ever tried to take over the world. It’s a scary thought. We all need to start carrying bananas in our pockets, just in case we come across a monkey. We have to show them that they’re loved. Maybe then we won’t wake up one day and find ourselves living in a world that’s been overrun by monkeys. Monkeys that can use Uzis. And maybe even U’s, who knows? The only thing that separates us from the animals is the language barrier. And language is the only thing that keeps us from being animals, ourselves. We use U’s. That’s why we’re on top of the evolutionary ladder. That, plus we eat almost everything underneath us. It keeps the animals in check. You see, we can eat an animal and it not be considered animal cruelty. We just can’t abuse them. Or eat them while they’re alive. It’s a messed up world, but it’s our world. At least until the animals organize themselves and take it away from us. And maybe we have it coming.
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