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“!!!”

Mark McGwire Finally Fesses Up to “Juicing”

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Yeah he admitted it, but is this really news to anyone?     

Insiders knew McGwire  used steroids off and on during most of the 90′s–including 1998 which was the year he surpassed Roger Maris’ home run record.   The media hinted at it.  Fans surmised as much.

In a flurry of tears and sobs, McGwire confessed all to an Associated Press reporter this past Monday.    He admitted that he began using steroids  between the 1989 and 1990 seasons, after helping the Oakland Athletics to a World Series sweep when he and Jose Canseco were known as “The Bash Brothers”.    He got back on the stuff after the 1993 season, when he missed all but 27 games with a mysterious heel injury.  He claims he was told that taking steroids might s hasten his recovery.

McGwire claims he ONLY did it for health purposes;  NOT for any type of strength purposes.

Yeah right.   Uh-huh.  Sure  and the check is in the mail.

I wonder how much of that record-breaking single home run season McGwire contributed to his “health”.   He now regrets that he ever used them.

A few years ago when steroid use was the subject du jour on Capital Hill,  he all but lied before a Congressional panel regarding his use of steroids.   He testified that he didn’t come to DC to talk about the past.  That was an interesting admission.  He essentially said in one breath, “Yes I did, but no I didn’t”.    It fooled no one.

But maybe…. just maybe  MLB looked the other way—for a while, anyway.   When Sammy Sosa and McGwire were racing to beat Maris’ record back in ’98, revenues went through the roof.    Baseball was front page news once again.   America’s past time had gotten a shot in the arm–so to speak.     TV ratings were, too.   Sales of merchandise from jerseys to foam fingers soared. 

But the problem became so widespread that it couldn’t be overlooked anymore. 

Even so, there are those out there who say this is much ado about nothing.  I’ve heard arguments from some avid baseball fans that steroid use actually did wonders for the game in terms of it being a spectator sport.   Because of steroids’ performance enhancing  properties, those watching in the stands and at home got far more bang for their buck.  They were able to see more home runs that went farther ever faster.    They got to see balls thrown at speeds so fast,  virtual contrails formed behind them as they crossed home plate.    

These same fans who see nothing wrong with juicing will say there’s no difference between shooting up a little Amdro in  Barry Bonds’ butt or your average beauty queen with silicone swimming in both of her surgically engorged boobs.  

I disagree.  

Boob implants will not affect a beauty queen’s responses in the Question and Answer portion of the pageant.   Her ability to assess the issues comprising her regal platform including  the promotion of world peace, eliminating global hunger and that “U.S. Americans are unable to do so with Osama people out there who don’t have maps such as in South America and the Iraq, such as” will not be affected at all.

Uh, on second thought….

Seriously folks, steroids build muscles and in muscles we find strength and it is with strength that Mark McGwire hit 63 record-setting home runs in a single season.   It was manufactured strength; ostensibly processed in a few beakers in some Bay Area lab and not acheived through grit,  sweat and effort and no, I DO NOT consider the clinching of butt cheeks at the moment the hypodermic needle breaks the skin to be  considered “effort” of any kind.

I think he should forfeit his MLB record for the most single season home runs.   Some would argue that McGwire surpassed the record–no matter how he went about doing it.  

Well yes he did, BUT  HE DID IT WITH THE HELP OF PERFORMANCE ENHANCING DRUGS!!!!!   Am I all alone here?   This is just patently wrong in my opinion.  It’s cheating and completely wrong…wrong…WRONG!!!

Roger Maris had his faults as a flawed mortal man sure,  but at least he initially set the home run record on his own accord.  He did it the old-fashioned way—probably while hung over,  AFTER drinking  Scotch, Gin and a steady ingestion of Mickeys (the bitter pill that is the resentment of a team-mate considered more popular with the fans and adored by a hero worshipping media).

As far as I’m concerned, Maris’ record  of 61 *  (frequently (and incorrectly) marked with an asterisk because he broke Babe Ruth’s home run record while playing a longer schedule…162 games as opposed to Ruth’s 154 game season) still stands.

McGwire has become his own asterisk.