Wow, your hands are on your waist but you are still pointing at me!

I was milking the cow, contemplating its jugs as Galileo does the stars when, lo
and behold, in walked LJ in my spacious farm. Her hands were on her waist, but she was still pointing at me. I have never been pointed at with so much diliryo in my life. What huge, firm and frontal accusations! Concentrated like condensed milk. I love those, LJ. You know I am fond of milk. What shall we do in my spacious farm that's full of hay? This is where rock and roll was invented, said Robert Johnson. Wazakenrol, said Khavn, who is filming what's unfolding. You talk too much, complained LJ, with her angry-looking eyes making me point back at her, but not with my hands. Soon enough we uttered, nay, exclaimed, various syllables, while rolling back and forth on hectares of farmland. All this time, the cow just mooed.