My cow can cross a river all by herself. She went to Oxfjord.
Cows inspire me. They are my moos.
My efforts to decipher the language of cows are at last gathering moo meant um.
Cross a sloth with a cow? Sorry, that’s not possum bull.
To kill all the cows, you need moo clear weapons.
All the earth’s bovines could only fit in a rumination. That rules out Macau, but maybe not Cattleonia. Cows are inherently grazist, which, if herded together cud be a problem. Just thinking about this puts me in a bad moo. I think I’ll watch my favourite TV show Milkin’ in the Meadow now.
The Karate Kid came up with an elaborate plan to obtain large quantities of tender beef. He was very Macchio Vealian that way.
The inventor of any cow-measuring device will receive size a bull royalties.
Unfortunately, the latest research on mutant cows is inconclusive. Too many varied bulls.
A restaurant that serves bull testicles opened right next door to me. Seems my whole neighbourhood’s getting genitalfried!