Yes, you heard me. Where is my milk? I can’t find it, and neither can science. You certainly couldn’t. I bet you wouldn’t even know WHERE to look.
This all came about when the left tried to put me in a taxonomic coffin. My eight children — Deuteronomy, Ephesians, Piffbort, Eustance, Gormless, Tabernacle, Revelations, and Jeroboam — came home from their public “school” one day spouting nonsense to me. Because of his teachers, my eldest, Tabernacle, ruined supper by talking about milk! Especially while we drinking it! He said that mammals make it! And that he learned, in class, that humans are mammals!
Do I look like I make milk? Not one bit. Do I look like an animal? Not one bit, again! My wife can make milk, but she is more of an animal than I am, the way the Lord intended. Although I wouldn’t call her something as disgusting as “mammal.” We are better than this.
I am furious that my children go to school and come home thinking that I am a mammal, and therefore, I have big jugs full of frothy white for my children to suckle on. This type of instruction is not natural, and frankly incorrect. People can’t just go about thinking they can have milkers one day and not have milkers the next, or be human on Wednesday and an ape on Sunday. That’s not how it works!
The problem exists with science. Some of the methods are good, but they aren’t biblical. They don’t get down to what I call Bible Basics, and the basics start at, of course, the Beginning (2,000 years ago), when God made man from men and woman from mammal. I can respect people who might disagree, but I’d rather be burned at the stake than let anyone think I am some kind of evolved beast.
It just isn’t natural for people to think they can make milk. At most, it’s a phase that people grow out of. Most people do not lactate: they live normal, healthy lives. They don’t just switch their identity all willy-nilly. I’d go as far as saying that some of us will never be milked our entire lives. Personally, I’ve never even thought about my bazungas seeing a milk pail, much less the light of day. And they’re telling my kids to parade their tiddies out in the street??
I tried explaining this to all eight of my kids, but I think they are too young to understand the finer points of what I mean when my face gets very red and my voice gets louder and I start talking about those types of people! One day, though, they’ll be like me — milkless, fully human, and respecting of God’s design and eternal love. Not a fucking mammal!
If that doesn’t convince you, consider this. You can try milking these teats all day long, but the only thing you’ll get is a warm punch to the face!
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