So, I went to the state fair this weekend. Like a typical state fair, it was filled with barns and farmers showing off their best farm animals.
Some were so cute, I couldn’t resist snapping a few pictures.
For example, this picture of a sheep being shorn. I didn’t realize until I got home that it looked like the gentleman in the orange had his noggin lodged squarely up the sheep’s ass.
I immediately imagined that the scenario went something like this:
Cooter: “Hey Cleetus, I’ll work on the front and you take care of the back”
Cleetus: “Cooter? It’s dark in here…I’m scared. And I think I’m touching this sheep’s wang. Why do I always have to do the back?”
Sheep: “Cleetus, quit your goddamn bitching, if you’re going to shove your head up my ass, the least you could do is give me a reach around”
Note: JS does not, in any way, support abusing animals. As a matter of fact, I’m sure the sheep doesn’t support it either.


Great pic! Those state fairs, though…I went to a few during the three years I live in Ohio. I had no idea that these 4H kids raise cows and pigs and sheep in order to eventually sell them to grocery stores at auction. And they end up in the meat section at the store. It seemed so bizarre to me. Like what if the kid who lovingly raised a prize winning pig ended up eating it on a sandwich a few weeks later? Growing up on the east coast I had never seen or heard of anything like this. One of many reasons why I hated Ohio!
“It seemed so bizarre to me. Like what if the kid who lovingly raised a prize winning pig ended up eating it on a sandwich a few weeks later?”
Ha! I would love to see that documented as the worst child prank ever. The first half could be the child and his prized animal and then the climax would be while he’s eating his hot dog or whatever and they tell him it’s his animal! I am horrible, I know.
Honestly, you know, these kids see animals as literal CASH COWS and not as pets, so I bet it wouldn’t bother them if they had one of them for lunch. The rural lifestyle is so foreign to me…shudder.
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