There was a day, a sunny and cloudless day, a day completely different from today (which is rainy, dark and shit) and this day was perfect for day dreaming and long, lazy naps in the sun. I know that you know exactly the kind of day I’m talking about and that you can picture this cloudless and perfect sunny day in your mind if you close your eyes.
On this day, two bulls stood on a grassy hill in a meadow unlike any meadow you’ve ever seen before. This meadow was fresh and green and sprinkled as far as the eye could see with every-coloured flowers and four leaf clovers and a big ol’ weeping willow at the far edge of the meadow, growing happily alongside a river that flowed clear and bright.
On this perfect and cloudless day, you could smell the mingled perfumes of all the flowers drifting on the cool summer breeze and you could feel the warm sun coming down, glowing on your skin, filling everything it touched with life.
And so these two bulls, a young bull and an old bull, stood peacefully on the hill, chewing the grass, and more importantly, watching an entire herd of cows in the meadow below them, their soft flanks moving in a slow, syncopated rhythm as they grazed, their big stupid brown eyes vacant as muddy pools. Their tails swishing flies away.
After awhile, the young bull turned to his friend, the old bull, and said to him, ‘I have an idea.’
The old bull looked up at his young friend, who wasn’t known for his profound intellect, with an eyebrow cocked and said, ‘I’m listening…’
The young bull turned his head toward the herd in front of them, and licking his lips said, ‘See those cows down there?’
‘I see them,’ the old bull replied.
‘Let’s run down this hill and fuck one of those cows,’ the young bull blurted out, excitedly.
The old bull turned and surveyed the cows innocently grazing below in the simmering summer sun and grinned slowly from ear to ear.
‘I’ve got a better idea. Lets walk down this hill…’ said the wise, old bull.
‘And fuck them all.’