Rawhide.

May 2, 2008

It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.

“Ain’tcha getting a little warm in that coat, Ma’am?”,

stammered the cowhand, pompadour glistening in the moonlight.

“I’m not going to bite, dear”, I whispered, flashing an incisor,

then drowned out his moans with a howl.

~*~

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10 Responses to “Rawhide.”

  1. daisyfae Says:

    cowboy karma… a warning to the others to lay off that branding iron!

  2. Parenthesis Says:

    The American West – what fun :)


  3. daisyfae: Cowboys: free-range beef…cake. Wait, where was I again? Oh, yes: curling irons are just so much more practical, dear.

    Parenthesis: who said anything about the American West?

  4. dolceii Says:

    More than one way to skin a…a….a…cat, nes pas? And they say the spiked ones are cruel. Pffft!

  5. kyknoord Says:

    Rural cabaret. Some people have all the fun.


  6. dolceii: I find a cowhide rug really sets off an entrance hall nicely, don’t you?

    kyknoord: Indeed you do, dear.


  7. And no whips in sight? I be seriously disappointed! *lash*


  8. I know, but Virgil hasn’t returned mine since the Annual Grade 6 Pogue Mahone Festival and Bake-off.

    And it’s just not the same with a Bazooka.


  9. Well well. What do we have here? A veritable shrine to Onelongminute.com. We have a fan club of sorts. We think that someone took the wrong turn off the digital highway and found our little cesspool of humanity.

    Jesus Christ in a matchbox. One question. Why the fuck-a-doodle-doo do you keep on speaking in the collective. The whole ‘we’ thing is a bet twee, don’t you think?

    *sigh* Now you’ve blown it. We wanted her to think we’re smart. Sort of like the queen, the president or some other member of the illuminati who secretly rule the world.

    Dumb ass. Ruling world orders have absolutely nothing to do with intelligence. Now she just thinks your a psycho with a hundred voices running around in your head.

    Now that you mention it that fellow who liked chianti and ate human livers with fava beans was also a plural linguist. But Jesus she’s so smart. We just wanted her to like us.

    Well you’ve got a hope in hell of her coming to visit now that you’ve introduced the Twilight Zone theme song to her blog.


  10. Frankly, my dear… I almost didn’t recognise you without the hockey mask and restraints! I’m so flattered you dropped by. All of you.

    I’m afraid I don’t get out and about as much as I’d like to these days, but if that’s an invitation, I’d be delighted to pop in unexpectedly during, or possibly between, visiting hours. You don’t mind if I’m armed, do you?

    (Before you go, dear – Mother needs to pat you down. The silverware, you know. Ever since that bloke with the big hat came to visit… well, you try and get anything back from the Vatican.)


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