Jogging the straightaway along 111th, I was about to be overtaken by the RJH Girls' Cross-Country Team, when I realized, it wasn't the girls' cross-country team, it was four, chatty women on four horses.
If a horse wants to pass me on the trail, that's fine.
I feel it's fitting;
they're pretty fucking fast.
However, horse ladies can fuck off.
Especially, The Four Horsewomen of the Aspergers Spectrum.
Gandhi would be open to sharing the trail. Jesus would be open to sharing the trail.
I am open to sharing the trail.
When I'm sharing the trail with a cyclist, the cyclist might ring a bell or say, "On your left."
It takes less than three seconds to pass and they never leave the lingering odor of shit.
Apparently, privileged, horse-riding royalty speak a different language.
"Weep weep! Weep weep!" chirped the lead horse's mistress.
Too tired to demand more than Mouth Horn, I moved right and grazed along the foliage at the shoulder of the narrow trail.
My refusal to trample through a patch of mud, in my lane, had me halt and the second and third horses passed.
I jogged around the mud and the fourth approached.
"Can I pass you?" asked the 4th rider.
"Of course, just don't make me run in the mud."
I then ran through fucking mud.
"He thinks you're a monster," she told me.
WHAT THE FUCK?????
I'd like to presume that if this were one of those talking horses, and as he passed, he looked over to say, "I think... you're a fucking monster!" - I'd LIKE to presume - his rider would say, "Speckles! That's rude!!!!!"
However, when a horse is speaking THROUGH privileged, horse-riding royalty, apparently, it's no holds barred.
You can't blame a horse for being a fucking idiot, but you are allowed to keep it secret.
Horses, as creatures, are magestic, yo.
Horses, as tokens of affluence, leave me puzzled and disappointed.
Mouth Horns and Insults from high atop a horse?
That shit is idiomatic!
Granted, I don't think a horse would have a better home if under the provisions of a member from the burdened class, but I'd root for the underdog, for sure.
Yesterday, when I was jogging down to Farrel Mcwhirter Park, I had my friend take a picture of this poster.
The atrocity!!!!
Oh My!!! A Bandito!!!!!
"Hispanic type?"
Fucking Really?
This poster is a bit ambiguous in describing the incident, but it reads to me as if the kid involved cut his teeth on a ranch in Hispanic Land.
Ranchers might come off a little brash when they encounter large animals.
Chalk him up as a monster.
-Neighbor out.
