Just because you’re useless, it doesn’t mean… Actually, come to think of it, it does.
…continued from yesterday
THE RANCH HANDS TOLD DIMEBOX DAN he’d never be a genuine cowboy until he learned to chop firewood. So, they sent him out with an axe and waited to see if he would split logs or split open his leg. Odds on the log went at 20 to 1, which no one won because he returned to the ranch that evening dragging twigs bound with his belt and holding up his pants with his free hand.
Clem, the foreman, spit a wad of tobacco next to his boot. “Twigs ain’t firewood, Dan.”
To which Dan replied, “They’ll burn, won’t they?”
Then the ranch hands told Dan he’d never be an honest to God cowboy until he learned to cut and roll hay for the horses. So he lit out after breakfast and returned just before dinner with a handful of hay bound with his belt and holding up his pants with his free hand.
Clem, the foreman, spit a wad of tobacco next to his other boot. “That much hay won’t fill a foal’s stomach.”
To which Dan replied, “The hay dulled my pocket knife blade.”
The ranch hands told Dan he’d never be an honest to God cowboy until he learned to cut and roll hay for the horses. So he lit out after breakfast and returned just before dinner with a handful of hay
To which Slim, the wrangler, replied, “That knife ain’t the only dull tool on the ranch.”
Then the ranch hands told Dan he’d never be a real cowboy until he learned to muck out a stall. When he sat for dinner covered in shit, the other hands moved to the far end of the table.
Clem, the foreman, spit a wad of tobacco onto his plate. “Did it ever occur to you to use a shovel and pitchfork?”
To which Dan replied, “What’s a shovel and pitchfork?”
To which Jim, the wrangler, replied, “Too bad he’s got shit all over his right hand cause the only thing he’s good at is jacking off.”
The ranch hands told Dan he’d never be a real cowboy until he learned to muck out a stall. When he sat for dinner covered in shit, the other hands moved to the far end of the table.
Then the ranch hands said Dimebox Dan would never be a genuine, honest to God, rootin’ tootin’ cowboy until he learned to rope something with his lasso. “I can do that,” Dan said, and rode to town on his Shetland pony, Shaggy. That evening, he rode back into the ranch, dragging a hitching post with his lasso wrapped around it and his free hand wrapped around the saddle horn.
Clem, the foreman, spit a wad of tobacco on Dan’s trousers. “I meant lasso something that moves.
To which Dan replied, “This fence post was moving while I dragged it from town.”
To which his fellow hands replied, “Maybe someone should teach him how to jack off with that free hand and leave him to his own devices in the bunkhouse.”
continued tomorrow …
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