Wednesday, January 14, 2009
I'm going to switch to water now
A horse. Chuck bought a white horse to help with the lawn and it was going to cost us $500 to insure it. We don’t have $500 to spend on a horse. Which is what I was trying to tell him when the alarm went off.
Thankfully it was just a dream. A dream I had to email to my friend Robyn. Despite her annoying superhuman abilities (running 20 miles for fun, breastfeeding across continents), I love Robyn. She’s a good listener, and she always gives it to me straight while somehow referencing cardio.
I hit send and waited like a good little girl for her response, which was annoyingly slow (was she running again for fuck’s sake?). Finally she wrote back. I won’t lie. Because she’s so thoughtful/squeaky clean/buff I was expecting a concerned email about how I must be frazzled since Chuck got laid off, symbolism of white horse and money, blah blah, and at least one sentence about how I should start exercising.
Instead I got a story about how her dad bought a goat when she was a kid to help with the grass and how the goat had a bulbous uniball that used to scare the shit out of her because when the goat ran, it would slap against the goat’s leg and, because she was a kid, the engorged testicle was at eye level and she was always worried the nut would fly off and smack her in the head.
Um, thanks? Next time I need some dream analysis I’ll Google it, ok?
(I love when friends surprise us, don't you? Especially with a good uniball story.)
(I can't lie, I've had a lot of red wine tonight, which is why this seems a lot funnier than it probably is.)
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13 comments:
ROTFLMAO! I've had no wine tonight, and I still found that funny! ;)
Funny you had that dream, though, 'cuz Princess Nagger was talking last night about wanting us to get horses...3 to be exact, one for each of us (knowing full well that Dada is afraid of horses). She suggested that maybe the horses could eat the grass so that Dada would like them when he didn't have to mow the grass. Maybe she was sending her thoughts to your dreamworld...LOL!!!
I really like how your 'go to' friend's response was totally off the wall...uniball and all...*snicker!* Tell her thanks for the laugh! ;)
That poor goat. All it's life, all it wanted was someone to love it. Instead, every day, it was reminded about its monotesticularism, not only from it own swift kick in the leg, but from the screams of terror from your friend. [That poor frickin' hilarious goat!]
Monotesticularism? Is that even a word???
I could use wine. The story was still hysterical, but dang, I could use wine. ;)
hahahahahahahahaha!
You inspired me to write my west texas goat story tonight, and I linked back to ya.
rotfl - attacked by a goat testicle
Wendy
Oh no, that was worth a good belly laugh! Uniball!?! Really!?! (hee hee)
I'm trying to decide which is more disturbing - the uniball, or the running 20 miles for fun.
Not sure. But I'm disturbed.
Wine or not ,any story with a uni-balled goat has got to be good.
Oh, and remind me to quit whining about the 3 miles I have been trying to run every day while breastfeeding.
OK, that's a lie, it's more like every other day.
You know, you're right. I really should have a glass (or two) or wine before I stop by your blog.
I'm pretty sure that you will come up on page one for anyone that googles uniball goat.
Pretty darned sure.
(Maybe 3 glasses?)
Hee Hee Hee. I want whatever you and she are having...
No, that was freakin' hilarious! Bulbous uniball?? AWESOME.
Not that you might care, but the medically correct term for "uniball" would be cryptorchid! Regardless, your story is hilarious.
--your local vet :)
You don't say--a cryptorchid? Thank you for clarifying that!
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