Without a ranch, things seem boring. I guess life was ok before I thought I had a ranch, but I miss it so much. Every time now I meet someone or talk to someone with their own ranch I am thinking about their ranch and if it was mine the whole time I talk to them. Like the knit cap rubber booted morgan breeding lady. I don't really want her ranch, ok, yes I do even though I'd have to redo everything. But it is probably obvious to people that is what I'm thinking when I talk to them. I don't think I'm a good liar. I am pretty transparent. They just talk to me and see ranch stalking lust whore written all across my face.
The dogs are excited to go play ranch on our vacation this weekend. The wild llama has taken up residence near the cabin! That is all I know about German Actor Klaus Kinksi's former cabin residence in the mountains of Marin. The team is certainly going to take up llama chasing. And in Boonville at Sheep Dung ranch, the team is certainly going to run and run and run to their little leg's content. I plan on sitting around a lot. Just pretending it is like having my own ranch, except the horses are away somewhere and I don't have to feed and clean and fix their waterers, just lounge around yelling at the dogs to get away from the llama. We are paying lots of money to sit around in tiny houses on other people's ranches. That just sort of shows how pathetic we are.
Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
No comments:
Post a Comment