I haven’t published any quotes from My Cowboy lately.
Mainly because it’s taken me a really long time to collect enough that I can actually publish.
Guess he’s been “in a mood”!
Which leads me to repeat one of my favorites he uses: “Whaddaya mean, most of my comments aren’t bloggable?”
A lot of his comments involve “bathroom humor”, which always reminds me of our friend, Amy, who canNOT tolerate “bathroom humor”, which only makes her husband and My Cowboy use it even more around her, just for kicks.
We were all horseback riding together in the Black Hills of South Dakota once, and Amy had to go to the bathroom. Well, in the middle of a place like that, you just have to squat behind a bush or something, so the other 3 of us courteously rode ahead of her up the next hill, so she could have some privacy.
All of a sudden, we hear shouting, and here comes her horse, empty stirrups flapping, reins just a-flailing, running up the hill . . . without Amy . . . who’s still at the bottom of the hill with her pants around her knees!
We’ve also pondered (many times over) the purchase of one of those toilet seats that you fit over the opening of a 5-gallon bucket . . . you know . . . as a birthday gift for her.
Her husband, Kevin, had to make a pitstop on the trail once, as well, and when he left us, he was wearing both of his gloves. When he came back, he only had on one! Don’t think we didn’t make fun of him for that the entire rest of the trip — we just referred to him as the “King of Poop” from then on!
You’ll recognize some of the following quotes as some that Amy would not approve of. The rest are just pure Cowboy, spouted off at opportune moments, and captured by me in between fits of laughter . . .
“Don’t just stand there . . . get ta generatin’ revenue!”
“She’s a regular cornucopia of vagabonds.” (Whatever that means!)
“When I take a notion, I just can’t stop.”
“We’re all whores in this world.”
“Brussel sprouts tend to fortify my intestinal vocalization.”
“Isn’t she just a horn of plenty?”
“How do you design ‘fickle’?”
“Come to my garden.”
“I wouldn’t want you to go crucially blind.”
“Did that crank yer tractor?”
“Don’t you like it when I say your name in your native tongue?” (I’ll let you guess what particular noise preceded this one.)
“I’s bein’ romantical.”
“Why does your coffeepot sound like a teakettle?”
“I believe you are going to hear . . . and smell . . . some cauliflower.”
“I figgered you’d have an answer . . . and there’d be a ‘no’ in it somewhere.”