You know, I once decided to buy a farm. Figured it was time to get out of the ass wiping business for something easy.
Anyway, I was driving an old ford festiva back then, and you can't trust those on some of the more rural roads around here. Damn thing hit a pothole and the axle broke. I'm riding mare's shanks down the damn road, and I see a pasture with a bunch of donkeys in it. I figure I can kill two stones and roll up to the guy leaning against the fence, ask if I can buy one for my new farm, and maybe ride it there.
A few hundred bucks later, I'm climbing on that son of a whore, tapping my heels in its side to get it going. No dice. The guy laughs at me and says I have to scratch it behind the ears to get it going. I say I've never heard of that being how donkeys are trained. He gives me the "damn city slicker" eyeball and says that it's called an ass, and to git.
So I scratch my new ride, Jeff, and off we go.
He's slow as old people fucking with molasses, but we're steady. Until I see a farmer out working on some coops and reckon maybe I need some chickens for the farm while I'm here. So I guide Jeff in and do some powerful negotiations, end up with a rooster and a young hen. Well, as the farmer tells me, that's a cock and a pullet.
So I scratch Jeff, the guy hands me the birds, and off we go again.
We finally get to town, and I'm parched. So I tie Jeff up at the local pharmacy. They still have a soda counter! They weren't too happy about the birds coming in with me, but they could see I was dusty and dry as five miles of hard country road and let me put a coke on tab while the chickens pecked around.
Anyway, thirst quenched, I go back out, hop on Jeff, and realize I have a problem. I can't hold both birds under one arm, and I gotta scratch the stubborn fool.
So I lean over to this lady passing by and ask her, "scuse me ma'am,but could you hold my cock and pullet while I scratch my ass?"
