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mikey
@
2009 Aug 13, 6:45am
I'm hot to trot to keep this tail going and let it ride but I'm late for a bridle shower. I'm a little spooked, too and I canter understand why, but I want to pony up and use the right tack. I don't wish to put a halter to this topic since that would buggy me and paint the wrong picture and besides that I'm not an Indian giver. I hope I'm being a friend and not a foal here. This could be a whinny-whinny situation and that's the mane thing. I really don't want to get my jockeys in a bunch.
Hay, I can't wait till tonight when I can play Donkey Kong, then watch Hee Haw and Jackass.
Happy trails.
elliemae
@
2009 Aug 14, 5:33am
Hay,
you do this every time. I figure I've won the race and you come in by a nose. You've got me on the ropes, go ahead & boot me out now. I'm feeling my oats and figure that I can spur you on - but you've got to be trainable. You're such a hotshot and I know that I rigged it to make my point. I'm not just an interloper, I'm on the fence about this topic and hope you'll get off your high horse.
mikey
@
2009 Aug 14, 12:37pm
Shoer, I've been around the horn but I'm going stirrup crazy now and that's only farrier. I don't want to get whipped because I've learned my lesson. I'm hell bent for leather, hoofing and puffing. No more stalling. I'm taking it with a grain of salt in case I may have bit off more than I can chew. My pals Al Falfa and Clyde Dale say it might be a photo finish depending on who can lead, so let's take off our blinders to hit the broad side of the barn right out of the gate, then we can take a straw poll.
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I bumped into a chick from Kentucky named Dixie who was a delight. She was a small fry so I scrambled to take her under my wing. Hey, she egged me on and seemed like some nice take out. I found out that she was a member of the local rotisserie club and that threw me.One day I picked her up in my Coup deVille after I dug up some scratch. It was hot and we were roasting, bacon even. I never sausage weather. At first she thought I was kind of a yokel. Later, we clucked all night. Boy did I have egg on my face. What legs and thighs and tenderloins! Finger lickin' good. I don't mean to broast but I can peck with the breast of them and I've got the nuggets to prove it.We went to the movies to see "Chicken Run" and well, you know me, I'm not the kind to yell "fryer" in a crowded theater and I think that's a feather in my cap.I've got no reason to squawk. I got the grill of my dreams and we're both embroiled in a flaming romance. Luckily, I got in a few pecks when the lights went down but the flick was a tasteless c*ck and bull story. I asked for my money back and can you believe it, they called me cheep. I was shell shocked. I should have cracked a few eggheads. What turkeys. I could have rented Rooster Cogburn instead. I was brooding for a while.Then things got fowl. The fuzz tried to arrest me for cacciatore rape just because we wanted to have some Chicklets. I was even putting away a nest egg and not a poultry sum, either. Thank goodness I'm a hard boiled type of guy cause I'm laying odds that's hard to beat. Also, omletting you know that I'm not hen pecked since I rule the roost even though she shows plenty of pluck. She once took a shot at a poacher in our backyard and that's something to crow about. (somebody named Sanders)However, I hardly ever hear a peep out of her and she never ruffles me, even when I goose her.She really knows how to keep the sunny side up.