The Lonesome Rodeo
Heaven would be a pretty lonesome place to hold a rodeo because horses--no matter what gentle lies are told to sobbing young girls--don't get to go to heaven.
However, short of heaven's hypothetical rodeo, the next most lonesome one would have to have been the one thrown last Sunday by Latigo Flint and his relatively trusty sidekick, Kid Relish... in front of the local supermarket... next to the coin-operated stallion.
There weren't any barrel races at our rodeo and no calves were roped. Not a single bull was rode and nary a steer was thrown.
No, our rodeo consisted of exactly one event: Lounging against the coin-operated stallion in front of the local supermarket, drinking heavily and exposing ourselves to every cute, single mother who happened to venture too close. If she stared for eight seconds, then the "ride" counted. Point deductions were incurred if her children happened to see, 'cause even drunk, you know that's just wrong.
We were well into it when we realized we didn't have rodeo-appropriate names. Latigo Flint and Kid Relish are splendid gunslinger names to be sure, but rodeo is a whole 'nother game.
"Buck!!!" Kid bellowed. "Buck is a great rodeo name, what with the awesome double meaning and all."
He was absolutely right, I had to concur.
"Very well Kid, Buck it is--and your last name?"
He thought about it for a bit, pausing only to expose himself to a cute, single mother who had ventured too near.
"Latner." He finally replied. "My rodeo name is going to be Buck Latner."
I nodded my admiration. "Buck Latner is a mighty fine rodeo name Kid."
I paused to expose myself to a cute single mother who thought that the shopping carts were kept over this way.
"Yep, a mighty fine rodeo name indeed."
"Thanks Latty. Hey, what's your rodeo name going to be?"
I thought for a moment. "Alexis." I replied. "My rodeo name is going to be Alexis Lacebreeze."
The Kid did a double take and stared at me, mouth agape. "Alexis Lacebreeze?!!! Your rodeo name is going to be Alexis Lacebreeze?!!!"
I nodded at him. "It's the perfect rodeo name Kid."
We both paused to expose ourselves to a cute, single mother.
"Come on, have you any idea how cast-iron-tough a rodeo man would have to be with a name like Alexis Lacebreeze?"
He stroked his chin in appreciation. "Damn good point Latigo--I mean Alexis. All right then, Buck Latner and Alexis Lacebreeze it is."
A cute single mother walked toward the newspaper stand and we promptly exposed ourselves to her.
"Was that eight seconds Alexis?"
"Pretty damn close Buck."
"What say we call it eight seconds Alexis?"
"Well then Buck, I reckon it was."
We each opened a fresh bottle and reveled in the sun swept glory and freedom known only by rodeo men, and alcoholic nudists.
(And by happening to be both on that particular day, the glory was in fact doubly ours.)
posted by Latigo Flint @ 11:54 PM
13 comments
13 Comments:
With the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya' eye, just... um... stay away from Gatlinburg?
Sounds like a lot of exposin' for not too many rides Alexis, maybe you need other attractions? perhaps some beaver shearing events.
I do hope you are extremely confident that these are single mothers (perhaps using squinty-eyed powers to detect wedding or engagement bands?) I also hope they don't have large hulking boyfriends (or similar status: brothers, fathers, ex-husbands with whom they still get along, etc.) Because I don't see how an alcoholic nudist is going to slap thigh and shuck iron in defense if a burly enraged man comes his way.
(Okay, I see how one could slap thigh, but the shucking iron still eludes me.)
You live life to the fullest, Latigo, I envy your carefully crafted carefree attitude.
Pardon the alliteration.
Holy freggin' jeez. I looked up Koan in the dictionary and sure enough, that's what I meant. Strangely, in the Usage Example, it read, "Pamela Anderson has nice koans."
Seriously though, good call on the Koan thingy.
BTW, please tell me Kid got sprayed in the genitals with mace.
(Actually, Westacular deserves your praise for Koan, not I--I was impressed too.)
Damn it, whenever I do that, I get arrested. It's probably because I can't give the cops a good rodeo name, so they have no respect. Thanks for showing what I do wrong.
Single mothers get all the breaks.
I'm shopping at the wrong grocery store.
... and i'm shopping at the right one. :D
Latigo darling, I think this is your happiest story in quite awhile. You aren't losing that tragic, weary charm are you? You know it's the tragic, weary charm thing that makes me want to... do things that Focus On The Family would not approve of.
My rodeo name would be Sir Lance-A-Lot. No, it doesn't have very much to do with rodeos, I suppose.
Latigo, if I were you I'd give up hope on that starbucks barista and start makin' my way down that dusty trail to Georgia to meet a certain Paula. Of course, I'm not you, and I guess I'm not really one for hope either.
You're one in a million MJ--you just recited the lyrics from the song. I'm going to curl up with my old guitar and an empty bottle of booze now.
But Peter, The Kid and I were there--so that makes at least three, now don't it?
There are still mysteries and wonder in this world Friend Slarrow--hell, it's all that makes living in it even remotely tolerable if you ask me.
Mercifully, Monkeypotpie, mayhap I shall yet find it in me to pardon your alliteration.
You are most welcome Greg, but the continued proliferation of good rodeo names is thanks enough.
All of them Old Hoss?!!!
Burbank Cindy-Lou--it's pretty easy to find--go to Mojave and then head almost due south.
Coin-operated stallions really do make all the difference now don't they Fourth-Fret?
Oh Paula, I'll no doubt loose my tragic weary charm soon enough... right along with my life--but it won't be today.
But everything has just a little bit to do with rodeos Trevor, so there's always that. And hope is a dangerous thing--hope can drive a man insane.
Post a Comment
<< Home