Closing Time (Death to Milk)

Up to now, we've been able to keep the muscle from the Dairy Farmer's of Canada at bay through a combination of clever cyber-dodging and timely interventions from the Pope of Fakiegrind. Early this morning, I awoke to the sound of cattle lowing, and looked out my window to see the lawn being placidly devoured by a small herd of Jersey cows. There was no note or letter in the mailbox, but the message was clear: the DFC is on to us. I'm worried that tomorrow night I might awake to find my bed surrounded by bags of radioactive milk quivering luridly in the moonlight, and I am reminded of the title of the Dead Milkmen's retrospective album, Death Rides a Pale Cow.



I'm afraid that all of these disturbing portents spell the end for Fakiegrind. I've enjoyed spilling my guts online with friends and strangers, and I want to thank all the Fakiegrind Agents who risked their sanity and reputations to be affiliated with the site. Thanks also to all the readers who were kind enough to leave comments and feedback, and thanks to the Powers that Be for the gifts of Skateboarding, Soybeans and Seretonin, without which this site wouldn't have been possible.

And don't drink milk! It's full of chemicals! Just ask all the three-armed "Milkman" babies they've hidden in a secret arctic colony. It's unnatural, immoral and disgusting!

We now return to our regularly scheduled propaganda.

Milk it does a body
Milk it does a body good
Drink it
Drink it
Drink it
Like good children should