Boots and Boys

Today on the light rail, I encountered some cowboys.

Yeah I thought it was a little early in the morning for the Rodeo, too, but I think they were heading out to reliant to chill with their livestock. You know, maybe weigh their cows or something.

There were open seats available in my favorite area of the train but people were blocking it, so I was stuck standing next to these men, probably in their 50s..maybe younger...I have no concept of age. Of course they were wearing giant belt buckles, tight jeans, boots, and cowboy hats..oh and some jackets that had their team name on it, I suppose. But like I always say, this guy is the only man that looks good in tight jeans. I guess I missed out on that gene every other girl in Texas has..you know the "cowboy butts drive me nuts" gene. I think I'm homozygous dominate for preferring a Northeastern attitude mixed with a Texas soul. (yeah I realize that makes no sense to you, but it makes sense in my head)

Nonetheless, I talked to these fellers...and by talked, I mean I made one comment until I realized I didn't feel like talking to people that don't speak correct English.

Cowboy1: (insert incredibly hick accent here) "I tell you wut...dem bullriders this year be really good."
Cowboy2: "Mmmmmhhhmmmm."
Yes, I invited myself into this conversation.
Me: "I like mutton bustin'. Cracks me up."
Cowboy1: "HAHAHAHA. Thas a gOOd one too. Those there are some tough kids, I tell you what."
I laugh.

The cowboys continue talking about random rodeo stuff. They were probably talking about how much beef they get to eat once they buy all the steer. It was too early in the morning for me to be paying attention.


Moral of the story: Wake up in the mornin feelin like Garth Brooks....



yes, I've been listening to too much Ke$ha this morning.