Big ups for using the opening line and resisting the urge to blatantly spell it out. Me rikey the subtlety.
I almost forgot about this story (maybe on purpose) and laughed my ass off. Truly one for the ages.
You forgot the sequel...
Cut to two weeks after the battle of the bul(l)ge, sophomore year, and I'm out at The Bar with Doyle and Ghetto Dave. I am hanging by the bar, because I wasn't drunk enough to dance, and I felt someone run their hands down my spine in a provocative manner.
Maybe I'm too much of an optimist, but I was honest to goodness excited that a fine woman in the bar would take interest in me, and even persue me and try to seduce me.
You can imagine the shock when I turned around and it was the bull. And she was smiling, like I was an uncooked roll of Pilsbury cookie dough. So I did what any many of respect and integrity would have done. I acted like I didn't recognize her. She eventually gave up on me, and walked away puzzled.
I think there was a tear in her eye, but it could have been Twinkie filling
The best part of that add on is after Jerry left his bull that night, mine started talking to me. The Convo went something like this.
FATTY: Whats your name ME: Umm Jerry Fatty: Where do you go to school ME: URI Fatty: no way me to where do you live ME: Dorr Fatty: Get out I do too ME: You should stop by sometime I live in the D tower, with a crazy Turk.
Quality work Joe
anonymous
September 30 2003, 02:11:25 UTC
One of your finest works yet. You captured the art of bull riding better than I could've imagined.
On a somewhat related note I came to a crossroads in my bullriding career over this past weekend. I was dancing with my girlfriend when the I spotted dead red. There she was, the chick so fat that she had her own gravitational pull. This could be the reason for all the skinny girls dancing around her. Then I pondered, to ride, or not to ride? Needless to say I did the noble thing.
You guessed it boys, I rode that fatty like she she was a twelve speed. I didn't have time to wonder what my girlfriend would think, I just couldn't help it...its what we do, its who we are.
Comments 4
I almost forgot about this story (maybe on purpose) and laughed my ass off. Truly one for the ages.
You forgot the sequel...
Cut to two weeks after the battle of the bul(l)ge, sophomore year, and I'm out at The Bar with Doyle and Ghetto Dave. I am hanging by the bar, because I wasn't drunk enough to dance, and I felt someone run their hands down my spine in a provocative manner.
Maybe I'm too much of an optimist, but I was honest to goodness excited that a fine woman in the bar would take interest in me, and even persue me and try to seduce me.
You can imagine the shock when I turned around and it was the bull. And she was smiling, like I was an uncooked roll of Pilsbury cookie dough. So I did what any many of respect and integrity would have done. I acted like I didn't recognize her. She eventually gave up on me, and walked away puzzled.
I think there was a tear in her eye, but it could have been Twinkie filling
Reply
FATTY: Whats your name
ME: Umm Jerry
Fatty: Where do you go to school
ME: URI
Fatty: no way me to where do you live
ME: Dorr
Fatty: Get out I do too
ME: You should stop by sometime I live in the D tower, with a crazy Turk.
Reply
On a somewhat related note I came to a crossroads in my bullriding career over this past weekend. I was dancing with my girlfriend when the I spotted dead red. There she was, the chick so fat that she had her own gravitational pull. This could be the reason for all the skinny girls dancing around her. Then I pondered, to ride, or not to ride? Needless to say I did the noble thing.
You guessed it boys, I rode that fatty like she she was a twelve speed. I didn't have time to wonder what my girlfriend would think, I just couldn't help it...its what we do, its who we are.
-Matt Simpson (a true bull/bull rider)
Reply
~Bona
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