Much of my weekend has been attending a "equestrian seminar" a growing cottage industry that gave inspiration to, and gained popularity with THE HORSE WHISPERER with Robert Redford. The pale blue eyes of the clinician fell on my pencil bosal and mecate ( a hair rope and thin rawhide noseband.) "Why do you have THAT with THAT RIG?" Because it forms a simple halter and it ---"WRONG.WRONG,WRONG! We use them in Montana son ( hes half my age) to ketch the cyuse if'n we get thrown. A hand will die of thirst where I come from!" No you wont. What? If you know what your doing theres water in Montana. The prehistoric people that left folsum points in megabison didn't ride horses. And besides, my horse has manners and ground ties ( taught to stand still when the reins fall ). At this point the adoring audience of horsey girls looked at me with utter disdain ( and plans to get a mecate and bosal just like Lash La Rue the horse whisperer.) so they wont die of thirst. I was banished from the arena and rode off to the local Mexican Carniceria for a ego soothing beer and burrito, tying my horse to a lampost. Experts. If I ever sound like him on the forum somebody boot me please!!!!!

Ah, heck, Chris, we all pontificate from time to time. OK, so some more than others. *looks around, making sure no is pointing/looking at me*<br><br>Communial kick in the butt, first Sunday of the month?

LOL, now you just gotta learn how to cut out a little rump muscles and still ride the "Cayuse" Commanche style Eat and Skeet..... I am a Bit O' hossman too..... no longer have one though.....wish......... Mac

Small minded jerks who call themselves "experts" are everywhere, in every field. Don't be too harsh, though they can be fun. They'll tell you what can't be done, and exactly why. Then go do it, it'll really [censored] the experts off. History's greats are the ones who strove to [censored] off experts, nothing more..<br><br>Cliff says you like Mardi Gras, E-mail me if you'd like some leftovers from a parade or two.<br><br>Peanut

MARDI GRAS! My bunkmate in the Coast Guard was a Cajun. I went back for his wedding. Both he and his fiancee converted to LDS, but were married in the Catholic church of their families.We went into the bayou to visit Mama Tibidoux, a witchywoman. She told me to flee as fast as I could, some cajun queen called Genevieve wanted me. I took her advice, taking a new love of boudan, gumbo and Clifton Chenier. My friends write Genevieve now weighs 280lbs and runs a crawdad stand.

>>>My friends write Genevieve now weighs 280lbs and runs a crawdad stand. <<<<br><br>And your point is ???? .... ;-)<br><br>Hmmm... Maybe I'll cook up a pot of Gumbo this week. I still have some sausage in the freezer<br>

Funny - my wife never mentioned knowing you. Grins<br><br>Peanut

Peanut, pretty little thing, @ 90lbs wet, raven eyes and hair with a creole patois that would charm Spanish Moss off the trees? 10brothers, 28 male cousins and wanted me to fight her ex BFJean- Renee the savaat kick boxer? the chicken and pack of cigarettes I gave Mamma Tibidoux was a great investment! LOL

We may not be safe, but we sure are interesting. Jerry Springer could have a whole new career down here. The reason we can't do double digits is because we learn to count on Momma's teeth or tooth. Actually my wife is from Tennessee, she taught me to count, I taught her to wear shoes. LOL<br><br>Peanut

Time is as solid as the seas. Be kind to those that have the gift to see through it- they keep you from being squished by a truck. Or Genevieve. :)<br><br>