That One Time I Played Chicken With A Cow

It's been awhile since I've talked about my roommates.  Roommates being the gigantic smelly fly producing assholes that live in my backyard.  Cows.  Moo.

I love living on a farm.  Some of my best memories of when I was a kid are from when we lived on farm 'til I was like five or something.  Yep, my best memories from childhood are from when I was five.

BUT - there's a monumental difference of living on a 'working farm' from living on a 'house in the middle of nowhere that we'll just call a farm because we don't know what else to call it because it has fences and barns that inhabit no more than spiders and dust but, eh, what else are we supposed to call it?'  Aaaaaand, the only house within walking distance was my grandma's.  Fuckin' awesome, right?  Grandma and cats on a non smelly farm = awesome.

Anymaggot

My hubs is a bonafide farmer.  It's in his blood.  Which I firmly believe is the only way farming is still alive because the people that do it work their asses off.  That and the fact that the general population would go on strike against the universe if they couldn't get their steaks and corn and food anymore.

Holy crap, I can not stay on point.

This post was supposed to be funnyish but instead I've gone off on some sort of tangent.

SOOOOOOOOO moving on.

I really don't have much to do with the farm thing.  He plays with his cows and corn and cock (rooster, just kidding, we don't have chickens) and I buy shoes and rearrange the house.  It's just our thing.

But, if the need arises I will help.  With a smile on my face and my Wal Mart shitkickers on my feet.

Yesterday (I have Monday's off - now you know) went something like this.

4:45 Josh gets home from his (semi) day job of electrician.

     I have never been more happy to see you truth  the kids have been taken over by, like, the devil or Charlie Sheen or something equally as horrifying.  Let's go for a drive.

     OK, I just need to get this one calf in that needs a shot because yada yada yada sorry I quit listening right about here, use your imagination

     I'll help you because it will most likely be good blog fodder

     OK - I can probably get it in myself, but just in case go ahead and change out of the clothes you were wearing yesterday *side-eye* and put some jeans on.

     Don't be an asshole.

     ..... = time passing mmmkay

     OK, what am I supposed to do?

     Stand here and wave your arms and yell.

     10-4.

     *Josh proceeds to herd them towards the gate*        

     AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, HOLY SHIT JOSH I'M GONNA DIE THEY ARE COMING RIGHT AT ME.

Lather, rinse, repeat about four or five more times all while Josh is yelling obscenities like, "stupid fuckin' rip" or "you dumb ass bitch" (at the cows, not me, he knows better)

     How about you stand here and yell and I'll herd them towards you.

     There's lots of cow shit down there.

     Are you serious!?  I'm standing in cow shit up to my nose.  I can handle it.

First try, we got them in.  My way worked better.  Let me say that again, I WAS RIGHT AND I'M A GENIUS AND JOSH NEEDS TO BOW DOWN AND KISS MY FEET AND CLEAN FOR A WEEK STRAIGHT.

At least then he wouldn't have to play with his cock.

Hahahaha.

Yikes.

So, what have we learned.

1) I'm always right.

THE END