A Last Request & Equine Spelling Lesson

 

The Lone Ranger and Silver were riding in the plains one day and were ambushed and captured by Indians out on patrol.

He was brought back to the village and presented before the  Chief.

“So, YOU are the great Lone Ranger.  Well, well, well.  I’ve heard about you.  White outfit…is that a Saville Row shirt????   Black mask, no identity and one very smart horse.  Not like Mr. Ed  smart, but still smart.”  

The Lone Ranger said nothing.

“It’s Harvest Festival Time and in between the Great Wheat Collection Gala, the random cocktail parties,  the Heap Big Parade on Saturday morning  followed by the Miss Feather Beauty Pageant and Debutante Ball at the club that night, we’ve got to get in at least one human sacrifice.   And uh, tag Kimosabi…you’re like “it”.   You’ll be put to death to ensure that the Gods give us another year of great crops, an even lower tax strata for all our people and of course, a higher return on our Hedge funds. The market kind of sucks  lately.  Have you noticed that?”

The Lone Ranger still  said nothing; just continued to listen as the Chief stood up and adjusted his crooked gilded framed degree from Cornell on the teepee wall.  

“But I’m a just man–fair and balanced–like FOX.  We’re a civilized people.  Before we kill you, as Chief of this tribe, I’ll grant you three final requests.  Sound like a plan?

The Lone Ranger nodded.

“So, what’s your FIRST request???’

The Lone Ranger thought for a moment, pensively biting his lower lip.   “For my first request, I’d like to speak to my horse, Silver.”

The Chief nods and Silver is brought Before the Lone Ranger who whispers in
its ear.  The horse whinnied, then galloped away.

Later that evening, Silver returns with a beautiful, scantilly clad blonde woman on his back. 

As the Indian Chief watched, the blonde entered the Lone Ranger’s tent and ends up spending the night.  

The Cheif finally dozed off, but it wasn’t easy.  There was much activity in the neighboring tent all night long.   At one point, the loud,  raucous lovemaking awakened the Chief.  

He angrily thought he should kill the horny White Man right then and there.  You see, earlier he’d taken the last Ambien in his ‘script and the tribe’s Medicine Man told him that would be his last one for some time.  He wanted to ween the Chief from all sleeping aids.   Teh fact the he’d seemingly wasted that last pill enraged the Chief–plus,  he knew he’d be an absolute BEAR if he didn’t get his eight hours, plus the fact that he was awakened in the middle of some intense REM angered him.    But compassion took over and he figured “Nah”.  The Lone Ranger was also a condemned man and that reality gave him pause.

The Chief decided to let the masked man have a little carnal fun on his last days alive.

The next morning the Indian Chief waited for the blonde to exit the teepee in that typical “walk of shame”.  Her hair was a mess, shoes in her hand and make-up smeared like a pissed off Pawnee before a War Party.   He entered the Lone Ranger’s tent and told the exhausted man that he was very impressed.

 ”You have a very fine and loyal horse.  The steed is everything his legend says about him, but be that as it may, we still have to kill you in two days.  So, what’s your SECOND request???”

The Lone Ranger wasted no time and again asked to speak to his horse. Silver is brought to him and he again whispered in the horse’s ear. Just as before, Silver seemed to listen to what his master told him and he immediately ran out of the tent and disappeared over the horizon.

Later that evening, to the Chief’s surprise, Silver again returned, but this time with a  voluptuous brunette, more attractive than the blonde. She entered the Lone Ranger’s tent and spent the night.

Again, the tent was rocking all night long.

“Hhhh’mmmm, that’s one fine brunette!.  She reminds of the babes I saw down South on Spring Break back in’48.  Ivy League girls are nice, but the chicks from the SEC kind of rock!!”,  the Chief thought to himself as he listened to the sounds of the incessant “Ooohs and aaaahhs; the ‘ Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!’ and the “Hurry up now and move your hind leg!” that he heard coming from the tent beside his throughout the entire night.

Hind leg???

That one perplexed the Chief, but again he thought,”Well, what the hell?  Let him have his fun since this is a dead man walking…or right now…screwing!”, he giggled at his own joke. Then that hind leg thing hit him.  That sure would explain how  the Lone Ranger and that horse are so damn close!!

The following morning the Chief waited for the brunette to leave, then entered the Lone Ranger’s tent.   ”You are indeed a man of many talents and your sexual prowess and libido is very impressive for a Pale Face, but you’re still a goner,Dude. In fact, by this time tomorrow, your two legs will be tied to two of our fastest horses and I will personally slap both their butts and will be there as you AND the two horses take off in two different directions!!!”

All the Indians laughed at the Chief’s visual. 

“Sorry, but you know our ways.  That said, what will be your last request?”

The Lone Ranger responded, “I’d like to speak to my horse, but this time, ALL  ALONE!!”

The Chief was curious, but agreed and Silver was brought to The Lone Ranger’s tent and the Chief and his main men left.

Once alone, the Lone Ranger grabbed Silver sternly by both ears, looked him square in the eye and said, “Listen to me very carefully, you stupid ass horse. For the last time, I said, “BRING POSSE….with an “O“!!!”

The Darkest of Horses

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I have made the claim that I know little about politics.  I have said I would never, ever involve myself in all that’s involved in voting, persuasion, power mongering, courting and swaying. 

In other words, the Black Arts.

But I’ve been lying to myself and to you.  I’ve done nothing BUT engage in politics since first learning how to lie to my mother about that little red abrasion on my neck.  I convinced her that it was in fact the result of a  “tragic Bunson Burner accident” in my High School biology class.     And the neck burn so precise, it was something that not even the best of the OTC unguents could salve.

The real Bunson Burner in this case was actually Kevin Robard’s hickey-giving mouth.

Yes, politics are everywhere and really, a part of our daily lives in almost every facet of our lives.   Some have perfected it to a true artform; others?  Not so much.

ENTER A ONE MR. DWIGHT DAVID HONEYCUTT.  

He recently (and from what I understand) ‘unsuccessafully ran’ for a spot on the Conway, Arkansas School Board. 

I don’t know how legit this video is.   The use of the F-word and references to the penis and the mouth’s natural ability to suckle in the most vulgar of terms indicate that either this is one incredibly funny political piece or Honeycutt was specifically and naively trying to garner the 16 year old male High School student vote.  

Which they don’t have.

Wel, Dwight David,  if I, a 51 year old woman, actually had access to a ballott and generally gave a damn about anything outside my realm and of course, had I been  convicted of a crime and forced to endure my pennance living in Conway, Arkansas, I would have voted for you without a doubt.

Supposedly, the video was shot, written, directed and edited by Honeycutt’s nephew.

Well, real or not (and I’ll wager Sandra Bullock’s left one that the words ‘parody’ and ‘satire’ play into this), this video is something you need to watch and something from  which comedians and politicians alike, can learn.

And watch till the bitter end.

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Gee Mr. Honeycutt, I don’t know exactly where “The Dick Sucking Store” is, but I have a feeling it can be found next to a “Hole Foods Market”.

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