Dear PETA,
Can you please all stop acting like fuckwits over that which about you know zilch? That would be seriously good, thank you.
Whilst traversing though my Facebook newsfeed yesterday, I chanced upon a picture of one of your minions holding some poor hacked ovine, with the caption, 'This is the rest of your wool coat'. Whatever this gronk was holding looked like it had gone through a mix master, and is a credit to whoever the make-up artist was. No, not really. It looked like a toy lamb with splats of red paint. It was as fake as the nails on that check out chick at Coles I saw the other day. Oh, and yes, whatever the creature that bearded gronk was holding purported to be, the closest accuracy would be a LAMB. Now, this just in: lambs do not get shorn. There is no way that bloke was holding a sheep in his arms like that. A sheep of shearing age would give this clown a hernia. Indeed, holding whatever that thing he is holding was probably causing undue strain on his internal organs as his diet of quinoa, rain water, kale, and air would leave him in a less than robust state of strength.
I feel somewhat qualified to comment. I grew up in sheep country. For many years, my father oversaw a shearing shed. I have memories of the piles of dried dags below that shed, and my olfactory twitches as I remember the overpowering smell of lanolin, and sheep shit. And shearers' BO. Actually, some shearers once complained to my father about a colleague's BO. Dad thought they were merely being petty (notwithstanding shearers are a stoic lot, and unlikely to complain about someone's build up of armpit bacteria - particularly since their own pits are generally not unsullied). Then one day dad came home and said he had been stuck near the offending shearer, and said, 'Holy Jesus, it was like standing next to somebody peeling an onion!'
Anyway, I can recall the blades being moved through the fleece, and it would fall to the wooden slat fall in billowy clumps, often with grey patches were the burrs and dags were tangled. The sheep, somewhat skinnier sans the heavy fleece, would then be sent, baa-ing and bleating, down a wooden splintery chute, where they would run through a narrow fenced alley and into the pen. What I do not recall is anybody shearing a lamb and cutting it to ribbons, you fucking idiots at PETA. If any shearer left a sheep looking like the pissy effigy your gronky minion held for this loopy propaganda picture, that shearer would NEVER set foot in a shed again. To cut a sheep is considered a disgrace, if memory serves me correctly.
I have only ever seen one injury in a shearing shed. It was not to a sheep. It was to me. When I was about eight, I used to love sliding down those chutes. Indeed, I considered them my own person slippery dip. The shed was my own playground, and I felt like the luckiest kid in the world. However, I did not feel lucky in the slightest the day I ended up with a splinter almost two inches long embedded in my right butt cheek. What I felt was discomfort, which was nothing next to the scathing humiliation of having a splinter in my bum. I suffered all the way home from the shed until my mother removed it, laughing as she did. The next day, my rotten older brothers put me on the wooden veranda floor at home, and dragged me about in the hope I would get another splinter in my arse.
So yeah, this photograph you're circulating is utter, complete, true, unadulterated bullshit. You seriously suck, and need a good dose of reality. You can probably acquire this by stepping into a shed and having a look for your stupid selves. Hey, you don't have to wear the wool. You don't have to eat the flesh. I do wear the wool because I don't mind that, but I refuse to wear fur from an animal that has died merely to provide a fur coat.
But seriously, if you're going to attack an industry, at least get some facts and not some fake set up posed by a hipster twit with a stupid Ned Kelly type beard.
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