The world is strange, wild and hostile yet here we are at the bottom of the barrel with grocery bags wrapped around our feet as it fills with the Milk of Human Kindness, slowly rising with the bar we are balancing on.

In this space, Milk is a substance and a verb. A feeling, if you will. Milk seeps into our daily lives and we are all on our Milky path. We are all the Milky Way. Milk can mean smooth and creamy, cold or warm, dairy or non. That is correct, even non-dairy Milks are included in this space. There is no Milkism here. All Milks serve their purpose in this wild world of ours. Milky things surround us and should be embraced.

The Patron Saint of Channel Milk is none other than Florence Milkingale. Little is known about her, and only certain censored tales have been recorded in the once popular Foxe’s book of Milkers. Her childhood has been completely obscured and she only emerges after the time of the Great Rat Plague as a female presenting nurse and midwife. One story is that Florence was some Queen’s midwife way back when. During childbirth this Queen almost died. Florence ordered everyone out of the chambers and that is when she took out her left breast and held it to the Queen’s feverish lips and fed her the Left Breast Healing Milk of Life, and the Queen regained full vitality. The Queen kept this a secret at the behest of Florence. She only told her husband when he became suddenly ill and had expressed his fear that he was poisoned by someone close to him. His loving wife told him how Florence Milkingale had saved her life and that maybe Florence’s Left Breast Healing Milk of Life was the antidote for the poison the King had been given. They consulted with Florence and she indeed shared her Left Breast Healing Milk of Life with the King and he too regained full vitality. Florence told the King to invite his closest advisors to break bread with him the following night. He did as she asked and the next evening she prepared a simple supper of fresh baked bread with preserved fruit jams and a jug of Milk. For the King she prepared a separate goblet of Milk filled from her left breast, however the jug of Milk prepared for his guests was filled with Milk from her right breast. The Right Breast of Justice. They all sat down and partook of the crusty goodness of the warm bread with sweet jams. Then of course they washed it all down with goblets of Milk filled from the jug. Soon after, the King’s cousin started to get red in the face and breath heavily. Florence entered the room and pointed to the jug of Milk and said “They who have evil and murder in their heart will not survive drinking the Right Breast Milk of Justice.” Everyone was quiet as the King’s crimson faced cousin rasped the words “ I should have put a dagger in your heart instead of slow poison.” His eyes started leaking Milky blood as they melted down his face and his breathing finally stopped.

That was how Florence Milkingale became most valuable to the Queen, King, and their court. For many years Florence Milkingale was held in high esteem as both Healer and Judge, until one day her super secret power was revealed. This is how it happened: The Kingdom had been invaded by barbarians that had come out of nowhere. When the barbarian chief had stormed the castle with his strongest warriors behind him, Florence Milkingale and her Queen and King stood there with their bravest knights. Florence stepped forward in a moment of courage and took down the top of her garment showing her full glistening breasts leaking with Milk. The Barbarian Chief in his violent blood lust was quick to get heated in his groin as he gazed at the two beautiful throbbing breasts in front of his face. The silence in the room was deafening, you could hear the Milk drip from her erect nipples and splash onto the cold stone floor. Florence offered her right breast to the Barbarian Leader and he lunged at it eagerly. While he was consumed with drinking from the Right Breast of Justice, Florence Milkingale slyly reached below her garments and started to tug at something underneath. The warriors had started to laugh and grossly cheer on their leader while the King, Queen and knights, behind Florence dare not move nor drop their weapons. All too focused on Florence’s exposed left breast and the mauling of her right breast, the gnarly men only noticed what Florence Milkingale had been tugging on when their chief had fallen dead to the ground with melted eyeballs. Florence was furiously stroking on a very erect penis that she kept concealed between her legs underneath her flowy garments. The barbarians were confused and shocked, anger did not have a chance to set in before Florence let out an immense and guttural yell. The penis that she had been stroking erupted into a stream of acidic Dick Milk that sprayed thickly and heavily all over the faces of the barbarians. They clawed at the ejaculate that was oozing down their faces, but that only made it worse as the Dick Milk was melting their flesh off and they were just spreading it around. Then knights jumped forward and with swords they put the barbarians out of their misery. When the screams and clamoring had softened, everyone stopped to look at Florence Milkingale who had covered her breasts once again. It was the Queen who broke the silence, “Once again Florence Milkingale you have saved me, you have saved all of us. We owe our lives to you.”

Life after that grisly day seemed to go back to normal, but Florence Milkingale knew that word would spread about the extraordinary powers of her Breast and Dick Milks and that she would be soon be sought out for all the wrong reasons. She left that kingdom during the quiet of a Cold Full Moon night and vowed that she would never settle anywhere long enough to be found out, only long enough to change a few lives.