Sunday, April 4, 2010

3 Horses Kick Back In A Trailer En Route To Wyoming

Horse 1: I was the fastest 3 year old in the world just a year ago. Quit at my peak Barry Sanders style. Getting into the stud fee game now. Figure why not embrace the whole fuck young, top shelf horse pussy all day long until I die trajectory, right? Let you guys know how that goes.

Horse 2: I'm going to be the beloved, nearly fetishized object of a dementedly entitled 10 year old JAP whose dad, Ken Silverman, owns the largest liquor distributor in the state of Nevada. I am going to be pampered! And apparently Ken's youngest daughter is jonesing for a horse too. Potential BFF sitch. Plus, tons of well educated, wealthy male horses living on the adjacent properties. Could totes find a soul mate here.

Horse 3: I despise horses. I dislike horse culture. The dated western mythology, the worship of aesthetics above all else, the fucking forced outdoorsiness. I hate ranches, stables, sawdust, dirt, fields, flowers, galloping. And I hate how shamelessly positive and self-promoting horses are. You're beautiful, you're fast, you're wild, yeah... I get it. I wish this trailer would turn the fuck around and take me to the Santa Monica Farmer's Market on Main Street. Sometimes they have miniature ponies walking around in a circle there. Hipsterdads put their toddlers on top of them. The ponies walk around for a couple hours. That shit is mindless and easy in the best way. I figure I'm pretty undersized. I could pass for a pony. It's a good life. Grub on some blue corn tamales during a break. Buy a little fresh local produce at a discount. Meet some off-beat creative free spirit type chilling in the grass with her friends. Grow a beard. Buy a starter home. Host barbecues and invite other pretty good looking, intelligent non mainstreamers into your backyard where you grow your own kale. Have a baby. Buy expensive organic baby toys that your cool friends confirm are extremely in and thoughtful. Be a little less obsessive and helicoptery than your own parents. Yeah. There is a simple dignity to that. It isn't unique, but it's endurable. Might even thrive at it.

Horse 1: Ahh, shit, that feels good.

Horse 3: What?

Horse 1: Horse 2 is blowing me right now.

Horse 3: Oh. Sweet.

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