I love a cow in a blanket. A nice beef burner blanketed in a doughey granny quilt. Its nice to think of the edible heffer all snug and comfy laying on an oiled pan bed. What is almost better than eating a bedded bovine is to sneak a peek through the bedroom oven door and see a sleepy mound with a flakey browning duffet, sizzle snore with grease sneezes in a 400 degree nap shack.
Its disrespectful to sneak peeks of catatonic high caloric cattle I know. But the bottom of my stomach is dusty from a lack of the food broom coming through.
After 10 minutes its time to remove the peaceful morsel from her slumber. My heart is in trouble for the cow insists on traveling with her blanket, its a security thing. These travel requests have weakened my heart as they are usually hoofed chunked almost immediatley once these heffers enter the party that is digestion. These disregarded dough blankets which are covered in grease sneezes pile up and clog up my artery freeways. Heart has a hell of a time pumping blood through my comforter cluttered passages.
I need to come up with a solution cuz heart is red with anger at the mess these visitors are leaving. I will ask heart to adevetise on a stint to the cows that a blanket party awaits in my stomach and it is wise to hang on to blankets for the whole party. Blankets can really sweep up a dusty stomach and its a win win for me and heart if those lard soiled bedspreads bypass my ticked off ticker and broomed my belly instead. Im on to something here and the oven heat has really made me sleepy. Sleepy like 20 hens in a sleeping bag.
