Garbage Can Thievery

Zeke felt that he was destined for a life of crime. However, he wanted to make his Mama proud by being a particularly clever and distinctive thief. After all, "My son Zeke the auto stealer" or "My son Zeke the purse snatcher" does sound kind of uninteresting and ordinary.

Also, some lines of crime are hard to break into: The drug lords do expect to have and enforce a monopoly; and the local doxies actively discouraged Zeke with two black eyes when he offered to be their pimp. Even though Zeke was primarily drawn into pimpdom by the prospect of the cool threads, he needed to work out at the gym more.  Being a pimp is a high-impact exercise.

Ditto for kidnapping. Sometimes victims may too enthusiastically resist being taken. Besides, kidnapping got the FBI involved; and unlike their frequent television portrayal, they tend to be very effective. No, you don't want to go up against a Big Ten or SEC team when you're just an Ivy League-level criminal!

Internet crime was, alas, beyond that ability level of Zeke, who was in the Below Average range of intellectual functioning. At least he did have above a room-temp IQ. so there were some profitable areas of crime he could manage!  Most criminals are not Rhodes scholars.

Now Zeke decided that a successful thief should have a unique product. Was there anything unrecorded as a topic of theft? Zeke thought of one.

There was no competition for garbage can thieves. He could snatch them and hold them for ransom! That was where he would make his mark! And, unlike kidnapping, the FBI has absolutely no interest in garbage can kidnapping. Unless, of course, you happen to steal the garbage cans from a Federal Building!

Zeke lined up a number of fences. It seems that there was a use for the garbage cans. They could also be employed as mobile meth labs, especially in the boondocks of the Tennessee hills.

Zeke really needed to work out one of the details. He learned that it was best to steal the cans only immediately after garbage pickup, and not later on in the pickup cycle. There was the little problem of dealing with the refuse!

Zeke made a miscalculation, though. The Feebes got interested in his nefarious activities when he sold his pilfered garbage cans in another state. Specifially, they dragged him before the bar of justice, and charged him with transporting garbage cans across state lines for immoral purposes!

Right now Hurricane Isaac is directly aimed at Louisiana or Western Mississippi.  I hope it's not a bad one.  Aug. 29th is the seventh anniversary of Katrina.

Advice to Guys in Preparing for That First Apartment Visit

Okay, you've been dating her for an acceptable period of time that both of you have strong indications that yours is progressing into a serious relationship, and you're ready to move it up to the next level, if you know what I mean.  How do you prepare for that first time in which she enters into your personal space?  Now you might have thought in terms of your lady friend getting into your car as coming into your personal space, but this is several magnitudes above. 

You wouldn't want her to see your car with beer cans and gum wrappers on the floor boards, would you?  Most of us would take that sight as thoughtlessness, if not actual disrespect!  [Throwaway hint: washing your car is a good move; waxing it is primo!  We notice!]  Anyway, your apartment gives a big, seriously big, set of clues about your inner life and morals.  Is it relatively tidy, or is it in a disarray?  Having a sink of dirty dishes or empty pizza boxes on the floor is the moral requivalent of not brushing your teeth regularly.

Decorate your apartment with understated taste.  No, you do not have to go in for expensive pictures or objects de arte; a few tasteful prints will do.  An Impressionist or Dutch Master or two, and some carvings for the coffee table will instantly convert your stock motel-appearing apartment into a home for a guy!  But no nudes, please!  Nothing porn.  I know all about Rule 34; but restrain yourself!  And nothing satirical, either.  It's hard to distinguish between that Deadhead art that you intended as a ironic statement from actual bad taste!  Curtains complete that actual liveable look!  

Books and magazines should be in evidence.  Beware of conveying the impression that you recently sanitized your apartment to avoid any personal disclosure.  Try to make it seem that (a) you have broad, mature interests; (b) this is actually how you really live; and (c) you are someone that it would be nice to be better acquainted with.  What would work with me?  News and scientific magazines, possibly hobbyist ones like for photography or art.  Popular best-selling books, as well as enduring ones of philosophy.  Nothing unseemly that you would be ashamed for your mother to see.  As a matter of fact, when in doubt, use the Mom Rule!

And not the Drunken Fraternity Brother or the Decadent Older Brother Rule!

Whether or not this is the first time a female is to enter your premises, sanitize evidence of previous visits.  Somehow, a peignoir hanging in the closet or a bra hanging on the towel rack doesn't work very well. Likewise, check your medicine cabinet.  No dangerous drugs, industrial-strength psychologically altering drugs, or birth control means should be available.  We're good at detection; which is why so many television detection series feature female protagonists!  Do you want Emily Deschanel on your case?

Worst case scenario:  You have a Love Doll in your closet.

Music is a possible pitfall; so let me walk you through.  Eminem and other rappers, mysogenic industrial musical groups, and fools like the Insane Clown Posse or Limp Bizkit are bad bets.  Likewise, you might really like show tunes; but let her become assured of your sexual orientation before you sing about a few of your favorite things!  Middle-of-the-road pop or country, or classic rockers are safe bets.  Did I blaspheme by implying that the Rolling Stones are safe bets?  Well, they are if you wish to get some satisfaction from the average late teen or twenties miss!  Classical composers that almost always pass muster are Mozart, Beethoven, and Tchiakovsky.  Ravel's Bolero is risky! 

As a bonus tip, never, never, never have anything by Barry White for music.  This is typically deconstructed as follows:  'He is just trying to get me in his bed, and he thinks I'm stupid enough for this music to work!'

What to have to drink?  A nice Chardonnet or Pinot Noir, or perhaps a Merlot would serve as tasteful wines.  For stronger beverages, I recommend vodka, rum, or gin.  Mojitos or Cosmopolitans, if you can get a nice set of mixings. 

Don't assume that, if she comes to your lair, it's for sex; she might simply be curious or wish to extend the evening.  And if she demurs, accept it with grace.  By doing so, you have demonstrated that you are a trustworthy gentleman.

Finally, if she does spend the night, be a hero and have a new toothbrush and a fresh bar of soap and towel in the bathroom. 

And prepare her a nice romantic breakfast!  A single rose bud in a vase would work nicely!

 

 

A little unconnected langiappe:

 

Canyon High School in Orange County, CA recently had a "Señores and Señoritas Day," an event where students were encouraged to don Latino-themed attire,  However, several students this spring arrived to campus dressed as gang members, gardeners, border patrol agents and pregnant teens.  The event has been canceled in the future, and administrators at the school will have to undergo sensitivity training.

 

Surely anyone who has been around schools could have predicted something like that would happen.  Do they have a school psychologist in the loop?

Swimsuit Malfunctions and Other Calamities

Do not take counsel from your fears.

            -- Gen. Thomas J. (Stonewall) Jackson, CSA

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single girl wearing a string bikini must, on some occasion, lose her top; but hopefully, not her bottom, while swimming or pursuing other activities.  This is a mundane fact of life: an event may occur on occasion during a summer.  Unfortunately, the emotional response to it is embarassment and even deep shame.  Shame is not rational; it does not take excuses.

My Mama once counseled me after I had an episode of this type.  In the future, be matter of fact if some guys happen to see your ta-tas*, rather than hysterical!  Just demurely cover yourself, retrieve your missing top, and put things right with as little or no ado as possible.  In other words, act like this is a normal, everyday occurrence.  In a real way, she was stating a implicit psychology: people are programmed to read your reactions as cues for how they should act.  In other words, they will see this as one more semiinteresting event on the beach, but not one to revisit later on to get you in a tizzy.

She had a further bit of advice:  Bring last year's swimsuit along in your beach bag so that you can immediately provide a replacement, should it be needed.  Or a t-shirt made of thick material that could serve as a cover-up in lieu of the top.  In fact, this was a good partial solution to the wearing a wet swimsuit top when you're no longer in the water!  It's a much nicer way to go anywhere off the beach after a swim!

Actually, I think this example could serve as a model of how to handle those small, everyday examples of awkwardness or embarassments.  If you spill your coffee at a café, simply wipe it up, and act like nothing at all happened.  If you stutter or lisp or make a Spoonerism, just act matter of fact.  Chances are, most people will not notice.**

We are not totally the slaves to our emotions. They can be influenced by our actions and thoughts.  And, finally, you can have some impact on the conditions around yourself.

*Strangely enough, this is both a Cajun word and the one used in slang.

**This principle does not apply if you are running for public office.  Every misstep will be re-reported ad naseam.  In the public sector, there is no grace given to those who err.

Why Can't We Just Get Along?

Why can't we just get along?

                 -- Rodney King

There seems to be an increasingly uncivil level of political discourse in our society lately; this makes for unnecessarily high levels of tension  and unhappiness.  Whether a person leans to the Democratic or Republican philosophy, it is important to remember that:

a.  Your side is not completely right;
b.  The other side is not completely wrong.

Really, both slants do affirm defensible values; it's the relative degree of importance they give them that the sides differ on.  However, I'm sure that this promises to be an election season that is dull, nasty, brutish, and, unfortunately, not short.  It's too long already.

But this is not restricted to politics.  We can see this with the truly virulent and totally unnecessary sniping that goes on between theists and atheists on the internet and, unfortunately, in real life.  And that old chestnut to pull out of the embers: sectional differences.  Both sides are guilty of re-fighting the Civil War.  Moreover, not content with that difference, they make up new ones.

Some people make a lot over CNN/MSNBC/Fox News differences.  Yes, an example of the news media has a slant, they all do.   Well, maybe not The Sun -- unless you feel strongly about Page 3.  Let's remember that they're small stuff; these are all news lite; and this fact renders this dispute the equivalent of a horsefly bite on your behind you're at the beach.  Seriously, all televisions and remotes come with an on-off button or a channel selector: become familiar with it.  It will save you from woes.  Moreover, it doesn't do your blood pressure and your tranquility very much good.

We should be able to have our own opinions, and differ.  But it would be nice to do so in a respectful manner.  Or, if that is not possible, then speak softly; leave the big stick at home.

Because, however another person's opinion differs from yours, you're stuck with that person by having to live in the same society.  Secession is probably not an option.  And,when the two (or more) of you have some real peril or crisis, then it's easier to work together.  And dammit: You Democrats are stuck with those Republicans, no matter how wrong-headed they are; you Republicans are stuck with those Democrats, even though they're not playing with a full deck!  As for adherents of minor parties, they're just written off as the lunatic fringe! 

What Might Be a Reason to Invoke 'Eminent Domain"?

The right of eminent domain is ingrained as a legal principle.  Specifically, a governmental entity may require a property owner to sell her or his land if there is some necessary, civic purpose to which it will be used, such as an access road to a new bridge, a tract of land for a new high school, or even a new police station.

This right of governments in the exercise of eminent domain must be for public use and just compensation must be paid. Therein there can be a problem, sometimes.  This was brought out in the Supreme Court's decision in Kelo v. City of New London, 545 U.S. 469 (2005), which affirmed the authority of New London, Connecticut, to take private property by eminent domain to lease to a developer because it would enhance municipal revenue.. This 5-4 decision was met by dismay in some circles.  As a matter of fact, several state Supreme Courts (Illinois, Michigan, Ohio, Oklahoma, and South Carolina have recently ruled to disallow such takings under their state constitutions.

But how far shall this invoking of eminent domain for municipal revenues be taken? This needs to be worked out.

Let's consider Middlebrook, a small satillite community near a larger entity.  Farmer Brown, a very industrious organic watercress farmer who is also very religious, was offered a considerable amount of money for a tract of his land by a developer who represented a group which intended to erect a strip joint on that sight.

The name for this spectacular den of vice:  Hot Fannies!  Farmer Brown said no!  He wanted nothing to do with nude tushes, even though it was projected as providing far more tax money to the city than a watercress farm ever could.

The Middlebrook town council was dismayed.  They see Farmer Brown as being obstinate and uncivic-minded, since they see the strip club as a revenue-generating asset.  Because of the tax structure, organic watercress farms do not generate as much taxes to run the governmental engine as do Hot Fannies!  So they invoked the right of eminent domain.

Should Farmer Brown, who has heartfelt moral principles, have the right to not have this particular use of eminent domain to be imposed on him?  I lean toward Farmer Brown.  It's not just property rights, it's the principle sometimes.

Just out of curiosity, I looked at my posting statistics.  "Erin Go Braless" was my most often viewed post, at 4699!  Begorrah!

http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1244308614877476148#editor/target=post;postID=8703965721473664264

A Thoroughly Modern Soccer Mom

The image of the soccer mom typically entails a thirtyish, slightly overweight maternal figure who is overstressed with child care, work, and family issues, and seems to be constantly in the process of conveying her brood from one extracurricular activity to another.  When this is coupled with a full-time or even a part-time job or career, this makes for a busy day, indeed!

When you consider that she is also supposed to go to the gym for exercise classes, the time load on her is intolerable.  Married soccer moms may enlist their spouses to do some ferrying and coaching (some actually follow through), but single soccer moms have to do it all.  In effect, they are painted into a corner of daily demands and have no time for possible social life with a member of the opposite sex (or same sex, if that's how she leans).  Therefore, by default, she collapses in front of the television for Leno and chocolate.

How can such moms serve the needs of their children, get sufficient exercise, and still meet guys?  This was a problem that the soccer moms discussed during one of those slow times in a soccer game in which their children were playing.  Or bench-warming.  How could they liven things up in staid North Carolina?  They wanted to have a little fun, and not just chauffeur their kids.

And, they had to admit, watching soccer is dull!  Even some of the parents easily found excuses not to come to the games.  Bad mommies and daddies!  They're just not up for P.T.A. or church choir membership.

Finally, one of the ladies had an idea: why don't they establish a bikini soccer mom club, one in which the members were active coaches of the great game!  They would serve as admirable, active role models for little Madison and Little Billy, get to be more active, and be noticed by guys who happened to see what was going on.  And who knows, maybe this would increase the attendance at practices and matches.

As little Joey said to her bikini soccer mom coach, "You're the bestest mommy in the world, mommy coach!"

Questions That Politicians Must Hate

Office-seekers, in the process of political campaigns, are sometimes asked an "oh no!" or "oh s***!" type of question -- one in which there is no good answer, but only the opening of a can of worms.  We can never be sure of the motives of the questioner: they may be innocent, or driven by some agenda. 

Let's cite a few examples:  During the 2008 Presidential capaign, John McCain was asked what kind of popular music groups he liked.  When he answred "ABBA," some people just snorted with derision.  But if he answered "Limp Bizkit" or "The Insane Clown Posse," or "Rage Against the Machine," this would alienate his Republican base. 

Or what if he said, "Britney Spears"?  His answer would rise or fall in acceptability in relation to the location of her halter top.  Or what if his answer was "Eminem"?  He might get cool points for liking a white rapper, but he would lose points also.  My point is that on the music question, there are only wrong answers.

Similary, if he named some non-American performer.  What if he said "The Stones"?  While they're well-liked and he probably heard of them, they make no pretentions at being an American group.

Even Sarah Palin's apparently softball question regarding what newspapers she was supposed to have read is open to being loaded.  Let's face it: she would have gotten no points by answering "The San Francisco Examiner" of "The L. A. Times."  The safest answer, in my opinion, would be to mention the Anchorage newspaper.

Likewise, Bill Clinton supposedly was asked before a college audience whether he wore boxers or briefs.  Whatever was his answer, the audience was treated to this unpresidential mental image of the candidate in his undies, and he was diminished.  Unless his answer was "I go commando; my guys need room!"

Part of the election process is to be seen as an everyday Joe or Jane, and drinking a beer.  Even that is dangerous territory.  Remember the Beer Summit years ago?  This was a nice example of racial and social class reconciliation well-handled by President Obama, but he was criticized because the beer drunk was Red Stripe (Jamaican) and Blue Moon (Belgian) and not good American brews.

The question politicians don't like are those that polarize them in a manner not desired by the candidate; those in which the candidate has not had the luxury to think through the implications of his or her answers.  There are landmines out there; some unintentionally set.

Hillary Clinton deftly handled a question of that type when she was asked during her Senate campaign what she thought of the Mets?  Since she was running for the Senate for New York, the landmine was whether she was a Mets fan or a Yankees fan.  She pretended that she misunderstood the question, and that she was asked what she thought of The Met.  She was definitely on safer grounds there.

How to Dress Like You're Easy in The Big Easy

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The Pathos of Bottom

Nick Bottom, the weaver in A Midsummer's Night's Dream, is almost always portrayed as a buffoon in staging of the play.   He is one of a group of mechanics who is to provide some low comedy relief for the groundlings who might have tired of the intricate plot of misidentified lovers.   Bottom, to speak plainly, is not too bright; but he think's he's talented.  To cap it off, the mischevious Puck transforms him into an ass!

Clearly, this is a guy destined to go through life as a butt of jokes, as the Athenians seemed to enjoy when the actors were staging the play within the play.

However, Puck manufactured some  further mischief.   He put a love potion in the eyes of Titania, the Queen of the Fairies, and she became enamored of this mortal turned into an ass!  Apparently, Kings of the Fairies are okay with this and not troubled with jealousy like mortals.  Anyway, Bottom and Titania made delicious love, and he was waited on by other fairies. Clearly, he was having an especially great day -- the best day of his life! 

In the usual rendering of a Dream, Bottom is given a potion afterwards that causes him to think he was dreaming, but in Shakespeare Retold, Titania had left her panties behind, leaving Bottom with tangible proof that it was not a dream!  I like to think that that was an unusual moment of grace on her part.

Anyway, think of Bottom when you think of some Otaku or some thirtyish guy living in his parents' basement!  Maybe you can see the pathos of his life, and be kind to him in turn!  Likewise, think of fat girls in a gym class.  Yesterday, I saw a class of pony-tailed lithe runners running around the neighborhood, and they were followed by two fat girls struggling to keep up.  In real life, there is no level playing field.

Crazy Chester Handicaps the Presidential Race

Al Gautreaux, Action News Reporter, was looking for another angle on the Presidential race, since that dead horse was not sufficiently flayed to satisfy the political fanboys and fangirls such as religiously read the Huff Post or watch Fox News or MSNBC. As it was a lazy afternoon, and his news editor wanted some footage for the 10:00 News, Al decided to press the Easy Button and interview Crazy Chester, noted New Orleans equine actuarial and general commentator.

"So, Crazy Chester, what do you see as the likely outcome this Presidential election?"

"Ah, mah friend Al, it looks like a claiming horse race late in season in a leaky roof track. I see it as a pair of plugs running and hopefully not going to the glue factory."

"Oh, how so, Chester?"

"Well, it's like dis.  Obama he went out of the chute pretty strong, but faded in the backstretch.   He won only because the previous race churned the track up serious and the McCain entry was paired with a skittish filly.  And Romney is an odd horse running sore plus his jockey doesn't know when to use the whip. 

Al Gautreaux asked, "Crazy Chester, can you clarify what you mean?"

"Oh Al. Lissen here. I'll put it in football talk. Think about these candidates being like football teams in the Southeastern Conference. That being so, dis Barack Obama is like Mississippi State or Tennessee. Kind of weak or so-so, so if the Republicans came up with a candidate that wasn't half bad, he'd be a one-term President. It's sayonara, Baby!"

Al Gautreaux pondered this simile a bit, and understood.  Not bad for someone in television news.

"Yes, and Mitt Romney is Vanderbilt or Kentucky, even with Karl Rowe as trainer."

"Will whomever Romney chooses as his V.P. running mate make him a more viable candidate?

"No, Cap'n. Not unless he chooses Scarlett Johanssen as a running mate."

Lord Ko-Ko Has a Politically Correct Little List

Ko-ko, the Lord High Executioner in The Mikado, had a little song: "I've Got a Little List." I've given it a politically correct updating. Unfortunately, Ko-ko was moved laterally to the position of Lord High Scold, with the same salary and perks.  Ko-ko said, "Having a government job is nice."  He had to change his song to accomodate his governmental bosses.  Being a governmental functionary sometimes requires sacrifices. As some day it may happen that a victim must be found, I've got a little list — I've got a little list Of society offenders who might well be underground, And who never would be missed — who never would be missed! There's the pestilential nuisances who sell fileed chickens — All people who eat paté and who don't quickly sicken — All children who read The Hunger Games, and stun you really flat — Wishing that they were illiterate, and other things like that — And all Kardashians who are spoiling cable tee vee — They'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed!

Chorus:

He's got 'em on the list — he's got 'em on the list; And they'll none of 'em be missed — they'll none of 'em be missed. There's the MSNBC morning commentator, and the others of his stripe, And the Fox News People — I've got them on the list! And the people who drink big gulps and fart in your face, They never would be missed — they never would be missed! Then the idiot who praises, and enthusiastic sings, Not of maternal breast feeding, but only Hooters' wings; And the right wing money man, who sometimes dresses like a guy, And who "doesn't approve of politics, but would rather like to try"; And that singular anomaly, the sci-fi novelist — I don't think he'd be missed — I'm sure he'd not he missed! Chorus. He's got him on the list — he's got him on the list; And I don't think he'll be missed — I'm sure he'll not be missed! And that damned nuisance, who just now is rather rife, The right-wing commentator — I've got him on the list! All late night funny fellows, and clowns of private life — They'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed. And apologetic corporate flacks of a weasel wording kind, Such as — promotes good digestion and bowel regularity -- oh, never mind, And the NRA and the Tea Party and other groups I'd rather leave to you. But it really doesn't matter whom you put upon the list, For they'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed! Chorus. You may put 'em on the list — you may put 'em on the list; And they'll none of 'em be missed — they'll none of 'em be missed!

Alternatives to Statehood

Let us review the possible alternatives to Statehood status for Louisiana or other states.   Presently, we are one of the 50 states of the United States. At least six other states are very poor role models for us, and about 12 are unfit for habitation. If we stipulate that we're not ready for statehood,then we should consider the following:

1. Territorial status -- I like the idea of a supermodel as governor. It's better than some states who have had Holywood actors or country singers as governor. At least she would be entertaining.  Governor Kim?

2. Divine Right Monarchy -- But look at the sorry state of monarchs lately.   Would you want to be governed by any of the current or previous Windsors?   Damn, I'd rather be governed by Socks the Cat, at least he's dead.

3. Peoples' Republic -- Not good, for the same reason as statehood.

4. Military Junta -- But only by swell-looking guys in cool uniforms.
 
5. Governance by Local Warlords -- Sounds like business as usual, but might work.  This might garner Chamber of Commerce support.  Police juries serve in this capacity in Louisiana. 

6. Colony of Hollywood -- True government by the narcissistic set.  Maybe Madonna will adopt a small state.

7. Join With Some Other State -- Let me bring you down to reality here. Our adjacent states are Texas, Arkansas and Mississippi.

8.  Secede, Declare War on the U.S., and Surrender Easily -- Make tourist money off of the peachkeeping force but avoid much infrastructure damage.  U.S. tacks up a "Mission Accomplished" banner on a warship, and funnels copious amounts of money in to improve the infrastructure.

The Crazy Girls

Crazy Girls is a typical Vegas-style stage show at the Riviera Hotel and Casino.  Tacky and over the top; but you would expect that on the Strip.  What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.  Apparently, many of the patrons over time saw fit to pat the seven damsels' bronze butts for good luck, to the point of them being particularly more shiny than the rest of the figure.  Or, they could be taking an opportunity to act slightly daring without getting slapped by a live butt owner!  If I was accompanying someone and he patted one of the bronze butts, how would I react?

I guess it would depend on how many drinks I had.  After all, it's not my butt.  But if an escort of mine was being overtly familiar with bronze butts would be unsettling.  Does this molestation of a mid-relief group constitute sexism and disrespect to women, who are known to have real butts and rumored to have them even in Boston?  Does this augur badly for a long-term relationship?  Will he graduate to flesh-and-blood butts soon?

But this thought is intriguing: why do some people get drawn to caressing statues in such a lewd fashion, and why might others be embarassed or offended by their doing so?  It's not that I disapprove of butt-squeezing.  Dee-Doh occasionally gives me a friendly, non-so-Platonic squeeze on mine; and I must admit that I enjoy it more than I should.  But maybe I should not say any more about it, other than to say that there is a statue of Juliet in Verona that has an unusually shiny left breast.  I wonder how the Shakespearean character would have felt about that?

Cowgirl Melinda Joins a Tame Eastern Show!

After the Fall herding and cow-tending was over, Cowgirl Melinda found herself with some time on her hands; so she decided to temporarily work in a Wild West Show to entertain the little buckaroos and buckarettes back East with a passel of cowhand tricks and sharp shootin'.

Dang if she didn't get the idea late, and the various cowboy shows already had their hard-ridin', sharp-shootin' cowgirl and as she had no wish to be a stable jockey, she pouted.

But then in the local county weekly, she saw a tiny ad that went like this:

COWHANDS WANTED!!!

To Appear in

Captain Randy's Tame Eastern Spectacle!

*Ride with the horsey set!

*Exhibit your equestrian skills!

*Astound people with your skill at chukker!

*Demonstrate your acumen with a polo mallet!

*Perform intricate games, such as canasta, twister, and the cornhole game.

*Special: Jousting exhibition from Maryland!

Awesome Opportunity!

Western Tour: Winter of 2012.



Now Cowgirl Melinda was entranced.  What are those equestrian skills talked about in the ad?  She always thought of herself as the complete cowgirl; and there was no situation in Wyoming or Montana or Colorado that she wasn't up to.  Still, a buck is a buck; and they don't give beans or whiskey away and this sounds better than shoveling  horse doody in Wyoming.  Even on the Big Rock Candy Mountain on the Lone Prairie. 

So she inquired, and was hired. 

However, when she went for a costume fitting, she found out that they expected her to wear jodhpurs and a funny hat! 

"Thunderation, "Cowgirl Melinda said.  "Those fancy pants make my butt look big."

She was informed that this was normal equestrian wear in the horsey set.  And she should even carry a little whip, instead of wearing righteous spurs.  And the beverage of choice for the horsey crowd was either Martinis or Cosmopolitans.  She wasn't having anything to do with a drink named after a magazine that had content in it that made her blush.

She wasn't good at canasta; she learned poker and that was it.  Croquet?  Can you play it while mounted?  No.

Still, Melinda wasn't having anything of it.  So they put her in the stables as a horse valet, tending to the basic needs of creatures with too much respect to wear pants that make their butts look big!  Horses and real cowgirls have their standards; but it is said that even cowgirls get the blues.  Working in a Tame Eastern Show can do that to you.