With dreams of rodeo glory dancing in his head, a tenderfoot decided to hone his horsemanship. He mounted the horse, and it sprang into motion. It galloped along at a steady and rhythmic pace, but the tenderfoot began to slip from the saddle.
Terrified, he grabbed for the horse's mane, but couldn't seem to get a firm grip. He tried to throw his arms around the horse's neck and almost lost his balance. The horse galloped along, seemingly impervious to its slipping rider.
Finally, the tenderfoot tried to throw himself to safety by leaping from the horse. Unfortunately, his foot became entangled in the stirrup, putting him at the mercy of the pounding hooves. His head battered repeatedly against the ground, and he was moments away from unconsciousness when, to his great fortune, the Wall-Mart manager ran out and unplugged the horse.
Cowboy Frank was killed in a stampede and his face was pretty badly mutilated.
The morgue needed someone to identify the body, so they sent for his two best friends, Slim and Rusty. The three men had always done everything together.
Slim arrived first, and when the mortician pulled back the sheet, Slim said, His face is torn up pretty bad. You better roll him over.
The mortician rolled him over, and Slim said, Nope, that ain't Frank.
The mortician thought that was rather strange.
Then he brought Rusty in to identify the body. Rusty took a look at the body and said, Yup, he's pretty well torn up. Roll him over.
The mortician rolled him over and Rusty said, No, it ain't Frank.
The mortician asked, How can you tell?
Rusty said, Well, every body knows, Cowboy Frank had two ass holes.
What? He had two ass holes?!
Yup, every time we went to town, folks would say,
Here comes Frank with them two ass holes.
Cowboy Frank was so excited to be going bear hunting. He spotted a small brown bear and shot it. Then there was a tap on his shoulder, and he turned around to see a big black bear. The black bear said, "You've got two choices. I either maul you to death, or we have sex." Frank decided to bend over.
Even though he felt sore for two weeks, Frank soon recovered and vowing revenge. Frank headed out on another trip where he found the black bear and shot it. There was another tap on his shoulder. This time a huge grizzly bear stood right next to him. The grizzly said, "That was a huge mistake, Frank. You've got two choices. Either I maul you to death, or we'll have rough sex." Again, Frank thought it was better to bend over.
Frank survived, but it would take several months before he fully recovered. Outraged, he headed back to the woods, tracked down the grizzly and shot it. He felt sweet revenge, but then there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned round to find a giant polar bear standing there. The polar bear said, "Admit it, Frank. You don't come here for the hunting, do you?"
"Which one of you sidewinders stole my hoss!?" he yelled. No one answered.
"Alright, I'm gonna have anotha beer, and if my hoss ain't back outside by the time I finnish, I'm gonna do what I dun in Texas! And I don't like to have to do what I dun in Texas!"
Some of the locals shifted restlessly. He had another beer, walked outside, and his horse was back! As he swung up into the saddle and started to ride out of town, the bartender ran out of the saloon and asked, "Say partner, before you go... what happened in Texas?" The cowboy turned back and said, "I walked home."
There was a midget down in Texas who complained to his buddy that his testicles ached almost all the time. As he was always complaining about his problem, his lover suggested that he go to the doctor see what he could be done to relieve the problem.
The midget took his advice, went to the doctor. The doctor told him to drop his pants and he would have a look. The doc put one finger under the guy's left testicle and told him to turn his head and cough, the usual method to check for hernia.
"Aha!" mumbled the doc as he putt his finger under the right testicle, he asked the midget to cough again. "Ahhha!!" said the doctor and reached for his surgical scissors. Snip, snip, snip, snip, snip, snip on the right side then snip, snip, snip, snip, snip, snip, snip on the left side. The midget was so scared he was afraid to look, but noted with amazement that the snipping did not hurt. The Doctor then told the midget to pull up his pants see if they still ached. The midget was absolutely delighted as he walked around the doc's office and discovered his testicles were no longer aching.
"Gee, what did you do Doc?" he asked. The doc replied, "I cut two inches off the tops of your cowboy boots."
A few years ago, I was working night patrol for the Sheriff's Department when I received a call from the dispatcher: a cow was reported on the highway east of town. The usual thing in this case was to find the livestock, open the nearest gate, shoo the animal in, and take note of the brand so the owner could be notified of his lost animal.
When I went out, I soon came to the "cow." It was more like an elephant caught in my headlights, it was a huge bull walking right down the centerline of the highway as if it owned the road. Luckily there was no traffic, so I drove up on his left side and began to crowd him off the road. When I finally got him to the edge of the pavement, he stopped and looked back at me. His eyes were as big as tennis balls and his horns were 3 1/2 feet from tip to tip. When he snorted, it fogged up my windshield. And all I could see out the passenger side of the car was cowhide! I wasn't about to open a gate and shoo him in anywhere. With one last look at me, the bull started ambling down the highway again.
A couple of minutes later car lights appeared in the east. It was the bull's owner. As he got out of the car, I started to warn him about the danger of this raging bull. Before I could, he walked right up and punched it between the eyes. A thought crossed my mind, "What will I tell his widow?" But instead of charging, the bull bellowed and began licking the rancher, who began talking to the bull. He twisted the bull's ears and roughhoused with him playfully. The pair finally started down the roadside ditch to a nearby gate. Soon the bull was safely inside the fence.
The rancher came up to my car with a grin. "Scared you, didn't he? That bull is gentle as a kitten, just don't crowd him. He's got a girlfriend down the road and once in a while he gets romantic. He usually comes home on his own."
I did report that the bull was penned, but left out the part the rancher played. Nuff said.