Stickhorses and Dustbunnies

After my last great attempt at horse riding, Adventures in Cowboying,
 I decided I needed some spurs.  Jason said I needed to learn how to ride first. 

If you are any kind of a real cowboy, stop reading right here and go rope a goat or something, this will not impress you one iota.  But if you are like me, a dude who doesn’t know the difference between a halter and a bridle, continue reading and be impressed.
Be very impressed.

I just want you to know, I have absolutely no business with these.  My darling husband, whose desire is to fulfill my every whim, bought these for me, yes even though he knew I had no business with them.  That’s just how he is.  They’re cheapies.  I wouldn’t have known, but he felt the need to tell me.  It didn’t damper my enthusiasm.
Cheap or not, they still poke a horse, which I found out after trying them out with the trusty mount, Money.
Wearing these things got this horse’s attention and scared my socks off.  As soon as I dismounted, I took those bad boys off with the ninja quickness.  Translation:  they were removed at an accelarated rate.  

On a good note, I found a horse.  He’s just perfect for me.  Not a bit snorty.  And I don’t think he’ll mind my spurs too much.

My other pets are the dust bunnies under the bed.

Just keeping it real,


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