Scratch my buuuuutt, Shortbus and fuckwit UPS drivers...

These are the things that make up the days of my life.
Along with fire, floods and Christ only knows what else....
(I shudder to think of it...)

Aaaanyway....
Those first two things are horses.
That's what I call them.

Scratch my Buuuuutt is my second favorite horse at work, after SuperHorse, a.k.a. Hank.
Scratch my Buuuuutt is a gray gelding, about 2 years old, who reminds me of my first Appaloosa, Diablo and he's goofy.

I made the mistake a few weeks ago of casually scratching his tail and thereabouts because I needed to make contact with him and that's the area that was nearest to me.
Well.
Ever since then, the entire time I'm cleaning his house, all this dipshit does is back around in circles, after me to scratch his buuuuutt. I'll be forking shit outta the corners, then I get shoved into said corner, with his ass firmly pressed against my back.

I'll be walking a forkfulla shit over to the muckbucket and here he comes, backwards mind you, right behind me. I stop to dump the shit, he keeps comin'.
BONK.
I sidestep him, giggling, and go around his large hairy ass, back to the poop pile and I see his shadow, ass first, comin' at me again.
This goes on the entire time I'm in his house.
Hence his new name.

ShortBus is retarded.
Another two year old gelding, very sweet USUALLY, but last week he pissed me OFF, man. Such a fuckin' moron that I didn't talk to him for days, just went in, ignored him except to tie him in a corner while I worked, then left.
No scratchies, no pets, no nuthin'.
That because of what he did.
His new name is also because of what he did.

What he did was make me look like a dumbass, pretty much.
To me, anyway....

Every damned day, I do the same thing, the same way. Easier on them, easier on me, just easier all around.
When I clean a stall with a horse in it, I usually do it one of two ways, depending on how fucked up the stall is. I either fork alla the shit into the corner by the door, then re-fork it into the spreader (or muckbucket, whichever) or I'll park the muckbucket right outside the stall door, leaving the door open juuuust wide enough to fit the full fork through and be done with the shit in one less step.
(My Uncle Henry drilled into my head when I was a kid to "never handle yer shit twice... especially manure." So I favor way #2....)

So, last week, I'm cleaning ShortBus's stall with the bucket parked right outside the barely opened door. Everything was going well, til he decides to be a fuckin' retard and squeeze his large ass THROUGH said door, stepping INTO the muckbucket and nearly falling on his ass just to get out of his stall.
Damned near tore the door offa it's track, broke the bucket and killed himself, he did.
Fuckin' TARD.

Man, that pissed me OFF.
Of course, Mr. Boss was RIGHT THERE when Dickbag pulled this stunt, so that helped... NOT.

I threw down the fork, threw open his door and demanded he return AT ONCE to his proper place before I kicked his ass so hard his non-existant balls felt it.

He did.

Since then, I've been tying him in the corner, sans dunce cap unfortunately, and being all but mean to him.

Then today that new name came to me and I just started laughing.
Then, petting him and we've now made up.
BUT... he's still gonna be tied in the corner, til I get some kind of sign/reassurance from him or God that he's not gonna be stupid like that (or any other way) again.

So, Scratch my Buuuuuutt and ShortBus.
Cool names, no?

Now, about this fuckwit UPS driver...
I think I might actually have to hurt this asshole if I see him again... especially if I see him do again what I saw him do today.
Asshole.

Being that Tyler used to live where I work and that I promised his "old" Mom and Dad I'd bring him with me every day (that he wants to come- he stays home with Eric on Eric's days off), Tyler thinks it's still his "job" to "protect" the farm.

This means that he must carry on every single time ANYBODY drives up.
Even his old Mom and Dad.
That dog's memory must be SHOT...

Anyway, he goes utterly insane when a delivery ve-hickle of any kind shows up, but most especially if it's a Brown's or UPS truck.

So, today, it happened to be a UPS truck.
I was right inside the barn and upon hearing Tyler's "there one a them bastard UPS trucks encroaching on MY territory, damn it" barks, I start out to go get him, lest he have one of his intense bark-a-thons at yet another pantleg cuff, as he is wont to do.
He has never actually bitten, but he does get very Drill Sargeant-y with yer pants cuffs.

This dog is only about 8" tall.
But, he's also built like a tank.
Still, ALL HE DOES IS BARK.
A lot.

Anyway, Mr. NancyBoy UPS driver sees him barking his ass off and gooses the gas and SWERVES AT HIM!!!!!
Muthafucker!!!!!
I WILL BEAT YORE SORRY ASS!!!!!!

How fuckin' DARE he?

It's not like he got out and Tyler actually DID anything.
This peter-puffin' peckerhead pulled this shit BEFORE he even exited the truck but AFTER I'd cleared the barn doors, thus SAW HIM DO IT. Not, say, AFTER he'd dropped the shit off he was delivering, thus having to put up with Tyler tellin' his pants cuffs off or anything, which woulda been bad enough.
Noooo.
He had to try to draw First Blood.
And, I "took" it about as well as John Rambo did.

I screamed Tyler's name and went around the truck to get him.
The driver, upon hearing me scream, stops the truck completely, slides open the passenger side door, gives me a "dog-caught-suckin'-eggs", embarrassed grin and then, to complete my rage says, "I wuz gonna give 'im some tire rubber to chew on."

"Very intelligent. There's already been one cat around here killed. We don't NEED it happening to ANY of the dogs", I say as I put Tyler in my car.

Fuckin' dickhead.
Fuckin' NancyBoy purse-carryin' dicksuckin' jerkweed.

*seeeeveral minutes later*

Okay.
Not only did I just get offa the phone with NancyBoy's Boss, I also just sent Livey a picture and "short novel biography" of George.

*grin*

NancyBoy's Boss was a.) very nice and very glad that I'd waited til I wasn't pissed enough to bite through nails anymore before I called. He even wrote down the "tire rubber to chew on" remark. b.) rawther pissed himself by what the dickweed did and c.) said he WILL handle this and it WON'T happen again.

Well, good.
It shouldn't.
Try to run over MY dog....
putz.
BALD putz.
With a faggy moustache.

Anyway...
After I talked to that guy, I did the bio on George and about 30 seconds before I hit "send", it occured to me to at least leave him a voice mail as to what I was about to do... *giggle*

Not that he'd mind me doing it, but it just seemed like the thing to do, ya know?

"Oh, by the way, Dude... there's this really cute, really cool, single chick I know and..." kinda thing, ending with "so, that's what I wrote and now *click*, I'm clicking "send" and there it goes. See ya when ya get home! Bye-ee."...
*mad giggles as I hang up*

Now I'mina go clean the house.

I defended my dog's honor and have maybe had a hand in two cool people having a new friend.

Now, if I could only "Jeannie-blink" my house clean....

Posted by: Stevie at 03:45 PM

Comments

Posted by: outfoxed at March 20, 2006 04:48 PM (iS0pJ)

Posted by: Kenna at March 20, 2006 05:00 PM (HKMjV)

Posted by: Dana at March 20, 2006 06:15 PM (lJLXC)

Posted by: Maeve at March 20, 2006 07:46 PM (b/7xM)

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