Eh, if you’d ever like* to hear my story of why I don’t feel comfortable around horse owners anymore, I’ll tell you the very long (well, short in most ways) and sad tail tale that I have. Rape may not be exactly the right word, but it’s not far off either.
*demonstrate your ‘like’ by hitting the spoiler… warning, it’s unpleasant and I type so I can get it out, not relay it like a high school essay
spoiler
So my buddy has a mother who wanted to get back to her youth as she came into the mid-life crisis, and bought a small ranch with three horses. My buddy wanted to be a vet, and so what better way to get him some practical experience than letting him care for the horses and participate in all the vet stuff that needs to be done… Well, seeing as the best way to get to hang out with my friend was to help him with his chores so they get done faster, little baconbit often helped out with stuff going on at said little ranch.
Well, one of the horse facts of life is that they sometimes have foals. Interesting fact that you totally may not have realized, but for a mare (that’s a female horse) to throw a foal (that’s fancy talk for having a massive vaginal shit that is totally horrific), they need to be bred (in every pornographic meaning of that word…) by a stallion. So when the bacon bit showed up after school to help said buddy, there, cramming in by way of the eye orifice, is a picture of sin: a strangely old looking cowboy type with soapy hands getting very touchy feely with his stallion (cleaning is super important, because we’ve fucked horses so badly [okay… that was purposeful with the 'hole ‘rape’ thing] that it is incredibly easy for diseases to take root when horses copulate, so caring breeders and owners wash both the male and female parts very thoroughly first, and the mares have their tails bound so the individual hairs don’t stray from the main portion of the tail being held up and to the side… and sandpaper the poor horse dick), and the two mares tied up in the main open area of the barn.
Well, one way that mares have of showing their displeasure with a male trying to mount is to kick, which can kill the male. There are, or were, several videos you can find on youtube showing very expensive stallions becoming a very large problem to bury when that happens. So standard practice is to prepare and manage the mare, one part of which is keeping a halter on them and someone holding them in place so they can’t move forward and make room to kick out. Well, you can guess what job that bit of bacon got that day… I can still very clearly remember the way the poor mare acted when it was her turn to be bred. I made sure to never be around that particular time anymore, because of course they did the whole exercise once more a year or two later.
Anyone pining for some ice cream in London now has an unusual option to consider: ice cream made from mothers’ breast milk. The Icecreamists shop has made headlines for using milk from as many as 15 women to make its new “Baby Gaga” flavor.
Oh so hilarious! Next time I’ll be sure to keep my mouth shut to avoid offending the fragile carnists; obviously their feelings, their “health conditions” and their taste for flesh matter so much more than animals’ lives.
I used to love Dairy Queen until I went vegan. Now they can go fuck themselves for supporting an industry that rapes and abuses animals.
no one is raping animals.
Eh, if you’d ever like* to hear my story of why I don’t feel comfortable around horse owners anymore, I’ll tell you the very long (well, short in most ways) and sad tail tale that I have. Rape may not be exactly the right word, but it’s not far off either.
*demonstrate your ‘like’ by hitting the spoiler… warning, it’s unpleasant and I type so I can get it out, not relay it like a high school essay
spoiler
So my buddy has a mother who wanted to get back to her youth as she came into the mid-life crisis, and bought a small ranch with three horses. My buddy wanted to be a vet, and so what better way to get him some practical experience than letting him care for the horses and participate in all the vet stuff that needs to be done… Well, seeing as the best way to get to hang out with my friend was to help him with his chores so they get done faster, little baconbit often helped out with stuff going on at said little ranch.
Well, one of the horse facts of life is that they sometimes have foals. Interesting fact that you totally may not have realized, but for a mare (that’s a female horse) to throw a foal (that’s fancy talk for having a massive vaginal shit that is totally horrific), they need to be bred (in every pornographic meaning of that word…) by a stallion. So when the bacon bit showed up after school to help said buddy, there, cramming in by way of the eye orifice, is a picture of sin: a strangely old looking cowboy type with soapy hands getting very touchy feely with his stallion (cleaning is super important, because we’ve fucked horses so badly [okay… that was purposeful with the 'hole ‘rape’ thing] that it is incredibly easy for diseases to take root when horses copulate, so caring breeders and owners wash both the male and female parts very thoroughly first, and the mares have their tails bound so the individual hairs don’t stray from the main portion of the tail being held up and to the side… and sandpaper the poor horse dick), and the two mares tied up in the main open area of the barn.
Well, one way that mares have of showing their displeasure with a male trying to mount is to kick, which can kill the male. There are, or were, several videos you can find on youtube showing very expensive stallions becoming a very large problem to bury when that happens. So standard practice is to prepare and manage the mare, one part of which is keeping a halter on them and someone holding them in place so they can’t move forward and make room to kick out. Well, you can guess what job that bit of bacon got that day… I can still very clearly remember the way the poor mare acted when it was her turn to be bred. I made sure to never be around that particular time anymore, because of course they did the whole exercise once more a year or two later.
your story demonstrates that, under our care, reproduction is safer.
Well, if you’ve ethical issues with ranching, there is an ice cream option!
https://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2011/02/25/134056923/breast-milk-ice-cream-a-hit-at-london-store
Hey it’s that joke about how do you know if someone’s vegan “don’t worry they’ll tell you”
Oh so hilarious! Next time I’ll be sure to keep my mouth shut to avoid offending the fragile carnists; obviously their feelings, their “health conditions” and their taste for flesh matter so much more than animals’ lives.
Byyyyyye 👋