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You know, the other day I was pondering the mysteries of life, as you do, and I started thinking about cows. Yeah, cows. They're these amazing creatures that just... produce milk. Like, what's the deal with that? It's like they're walking, four-legged milk factories. I mean, who was the first person to look at a cow and think, "I bet if I pull on those dangly things, something delicious will come out"? I can barely figure out how to operate a can opener, and someone out there was milking a cow. That's some serious problem-solving skills!
And don't get me started on almond milk. I mean, almonds don't even have udders! I'm just waiting for someone to start milking cashews. "Yeah, I'll have a latte with a splash of cashew squeezings, please.
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You ever notice how milk is just this universally accepted beverage? It's like the Switzerland of liquids. But have you ever stopped to think about the process of milk production? I mean, what kind of job interview do cows have to go through? Picture this: Cow HR Manager says, "So, do you have any special skills?" and the cow is like, "Well, I can chew cud and stare into the abyss for hours." HR Manager replies, "Perfect! You're hired. Your job is to produce milk."
I bet cows have workplace drama too. Like, one cow's moo is too loud, and they're like, "Ugh, Brenda, can you keep it down? Some of us are trying to ruminate in peace here.
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You know you're getting old when your body starts protesting against the very things it used to love. I recently discovered I'm lactose intolerant. Yeah, the universe decided that milk and I needed some space. It's like breaking up with a clingy ex, but instead of tears, it's digestive issues. Now, I'm navigating the world of dairy-free options. I tried oat milk the other day. It's like drinking a hug from a field of oats. But let me tell you, lactose-free cheese is a different story. It's like a cheesy betrayal – it looks like cheese, smells like cheese, but when you take a bite, your taste buds go, "Excuse me, what is this rubbery nonsense?"
So here I am, living that lactose intolerant life, where the real comedy is in the unexpected adventures of my digestive system.
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I tried going vegan once. Keyword: tried. It lasted about as long as a carton of milk in my fridge. I realized that giving up cheese was like breaking up with a really good friend who never judged me. And don't even mention the alternatives – nut cheese sounds like something you'd find in a squirrel's fridge. But hey, if you're vegan and loving it, more power to you. I'm just over here wondering if almond milk ever looks at itself in the mirror and thinks, "Am I a real milk, or am I just a nutty impostor?
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