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Gassy Bovines and Bob the Dog
Damned cows. As I drive by their pastures, I like the way they look—all bucolic and innocent as you please. But they’re out there farting like crazy. Even worse, they’re emitting methane as they fart. In fact, each cow on the planet produces about 40 gallons of methane each day, methane that wafts up and blocks heat from escaping into space. Forty gallons! Each cow! Think about that.
Science to the rescue. At the University of California, scientists have been feeding seaweed to cows to see if it reduces the amount of methane when cows fart, burp, and poop. So far they’ve been able to reduce methane gasses within these bovine emissions by 30 percent. Is this a great world or what?
Unfortunately, we humans vastly outnumber cows (by about 6 billion), so we greatly outproduce bovines in methane production. So naturally, food production engineers are working to introduce seaweed into human diets. In fact, Kellogg’s has already introduced a variety of seaweed into Special K cereal, and General Mills has mixed seaweed into their recipe for Toaster Strudels. In the near future, food companies plan to add seaweed to Pop Tarts, Gold Medal baking flour, and Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. I like to think that even Kim Kardashian, whose life has been drifting along without much of a purpose, will now help save the planet by producing less methane.
Postscript One. The first two paragraphs are based on a news story. The third paragraph is a complete invention. But you probably knew that. I wouldn’t put it past the scientists, however. When there’s a planet to save, you have to break a few eggs, rotten I assume. Thus far, only the Japanese, inscrutable as always, eat seaweed, and they use it to wrap up their sushi. Eew, I know, right? (I’d rather not hear from you sushi lovers out there, with your sophisticated palates and all. I think you’re faking it.)
Postscript Two. Obviously, almost the entire weight of the humor of this piece rests on multiple uses of the word “fart,” one use of “poop,” and a one “belch”— a kind of humor appreciated largely by pre-adolescent males and a few Ricochet peeps who will remain nameless for now. You know who you are.
Another Postscript. Marie the wife, so deliciously Rubenesque in form, so modestly endowed in intellect, totally disavows any connection with this essay, including her relationship with its author. In fact, she says that if I post it, she will secretly introduce kitty hair into my vegetarian lasagna.
Yet another: Listen, I know this post is no great shakes and is unlikely to garner many Likes, so I’m adding a photo of Bob the dog with his new toy to shamelessly troll for a few additional Likes. In Madison Avenue lingo, the Bob photo is a value-added item.
Published in General
The one who denied it… supplied it.
Major Major, your little comment, with its internal rhyme, is on the same level as my essay. We’re brothers in adolescent humor.
I have notice that as men get older they tend to revert back to that adolescent infatuation with the passing the gas. Kent essay here seem to confirm that notion.
I will have solid confirmation of this theory if he requests me to pull his finger on the day we might chance to meet up.
GLD, at my age, in my rapid descent toward senility, all old things are new again.
I “liked” this post because of Bob the dog. The rest of the post was drier than a popcorn fart.
Pilli, I was counting on that.
I am surprised Marie has allowed you to live without breaking your fingers.
Kay, she has other ways of torturing me. She leaves her jelly-incrusted knife on the kitchen counter at night, and she gives Bob the dog numerous treats in order to steal his affections away from me. Our marriage is a living hell.
Dawg. You just a like ‘ho.
I’m happy that you remembered Marie this time.
Ah, I see, Joel. I didn’t understand at first. Yo, dawg, you almost too hep for this ho.
I suggest that banning Taco Bell and Chipotle would go much farther toward reducing methane emissions….
One day I took my kids to visit another crazy homeschool mom to play with her kids. While there she pulled out her go-to snack of… dried seaweed. In good mother form I tried it and got all my 5 kids to try it. 4 of 5 kids, including the 2yr old, loved it. It’s kind of grown on me, but whenever I buy the snack packs, my little kids eat most of it.
Qoumidan, you and your kids eat dried seaweed as a snack? What’s next, deep fried tarantulas? You a crazy woman!
Not often, just occasionally! But it really surprised me how much I like it. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t eat sushi:)
If these cows are producing “gallons” of methane, they’re not farting, they’re sharting.
Who Cut the Cheese?
How has the planet survived all these thousands of years with cows? Is seaweed now in danger? Can Bob be the official Ricochet mascot? I don’t think we have one….
I’m an Always Bobber.
You may think it is s**t but it is really a high growth promoting compound with energy benefits!
Everyone’s waste is somebodies feast…
For revenge we should butcher and eat those cows. To make a point we should have a special ritual which involves setting a fire in a pit, burning the meat and inviting people over to celebrate our revenge. Special ritual sauces and beverages can be prepared as well.
Mrs. Toad, uh oh, you may have activated the Never Bobbers.
Awww, Bob is so adorable! We keep you around for the laughs, Kent. You had me going for a couple seconds.
Seaweed is actually used as a common ingredient in ice cream to give it it’s smooth texture. I have no data on how that relates to methane production.
But, you’re willing to volunteer for the experiment?
A completely rational move to add Bob.
I get far more responses to emails I send to friends and family when I include a photo of The Cutest Toddler Ever (our grandson) than when I don’t, even if he otherwise has nothing to do with the subject of the email.
My nephew, the oldest grandchild, was known as HSC for several years. As in, He’s So Cute!!!!
Hmm… plusses, free ice cream. Minuses, having to measure my methane output. I think I’ll pass, thank you.
I think you mean, “I think I’ll pass on passing… gassing… something…”
Sounds like a true conservative, damned be to the fruitarian, vegetarian, vegan, PETA crowd. Somewhere in the Mid-west flyover country where no one notices how they vote, or God forbid-the South….one giant Bubbaville, with huge smokers ready to slab on a farting bovine, rack of ribs or anything that tastes damn good with a Corona with a lime or a decent Margarita, whose sauces compete for the best of the South contests…..but what the hell – the mid-terms are going to muck up the ozone with all those smokers on election day – the Blue Wave will prove to be a ripple, a rip-tide…. and we’ll all eat good….carry on…