My blog has taken an unexpected turn. Its all politics, and healthcare, and unions and such. Its supposed to be my own little utopian paradise where I can write about drinking, debauchery, and daily life as I see it. So I’m not huge on the drinking, but I love a good debauchery session. To paraphrase an unknown narcissist, “nothing displays sexual prowess like a pile of spent dwarves in the corner.” Unless there’s a sheep on top like the cherry on an ice cream sundae.
This weekend should get me back to that. Not here maybe, but I’ve somehow been talked into going on a horseback tour of Brown county with a bunch of the drunken reprobates from work. I think it was pity made me agree to it. My personal feeling on horses is they are 2500 pound killing machines equipped with hooves as hard as iron and as big as my head. Plus my somewhat bony ass is not designed for bouncing around on a saddle that was designed by Torquemada.
Fortunately I shall have a 5th of my favorite painkiller. There is nothing quite like the nectar of the blue agave for curing minor pains such as an ass that has been pounded by an equine sledgehammer all day. Chase it with a jigger of vicodin, and there is a better than even chance of a realtime conversation with god.
To start the festivities properly we are going to have a texas hold em poker game. I work with people that have more money than sense so there is a pretty good chance that I can walk away with enough cash cushion to keep me from needing double hip replacement surgery after my stint as a cowpoke. I have the added bonus of being unlucky in love, (thank god) which means I’m lucky with cards. I’m humming git along little dogies as I speak. It will probably change to oh bury me not by the end of the expedition. Doesn’t matter. I don’t like the damn horse I’m gonna cook it.