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Cow Economics Redux

Category Humor

(Thanks, Bas!)

  You have two cows
  Your neighbor has none.
  You feel guilty for being successful.
  Barbara Streisand sings for you.
  You have two cows.
  Your neighbor has none.
  You have two cows.
  The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor.
  You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.
  You have two cows.
  The government seizes both and provides you with milk.
  You wait in line for hours to get it.
  It is expensive and sour.
  You have two cows.
  You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.
  You have two cows.
  The government taxes you to the point you have to sell both to support a man in a foreign country who has only one cow, which was a gift from your government.
  You have two cows.
  The government takes them both, shoots one, milks the other, pays you for the milk, and then pours the milk down the drain.
  You have two cows.
  You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.
  You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are surprised when one cow drops dead.
 You spin an announcement to the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing expenses.
  Your stock goes up.
  You have two cows.
  You go on strike because you want three cows.
  You go to lunch and drink wine.
  Life is good.
  You have two cows.
  You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
  They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.
  Most are at the top of their class at cow school.  
  You have two cows.
  You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour. Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.
  You have two cows but you don't know where they are.
  While ambling around, you see a beautiful woman.
  You break for lunch.
  Life is good.
  You have two cows.
  You have some vodka.
  You count them and learn you have five cows.
  You have some more vodka.
  You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
  The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.
  You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two.
  You don't milk them because you cannot touch any creature's parts.
  Then you kill them and claim a US bomb blew them up while they were in the hospital.
 You have two cows.
  They go in hiding.
  They send radio tapes of their mooing.
  You have two bulls.
  Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.
  You have a black cow and a brown cow.
  Everyone votes for the best looking one.
  Some of the people who like the brown one best, vote for the black one.
  Some people vote for both.
  Some people vote for neither.
  Some people can't figure out how to vote at all.
  Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which is the best-looking cow.
  You have fifteen million cows.
  You have to choose which one will be the leader of the herd, so you pick some cow from Arkansas.
  Crowd herd of happy fun loving cows into a small dirt lot.
  Feed cows weeds.
  Hire Hollywood to show commercial of HAPPY COWS in green pastures.
  Smoke weed left over from cow feeding.
  Make millions selling "HAPPY MILK."

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Thomas "Duffbert" Duff

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