Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Because Shiner Is Not Just A Beer

Someone gave my horse a fake I.D.

He obviously convinced some sucker to help him get a fake I.D. so he could get into a bar, drink too much, and pick a fight with the wrong guy.

How else could he wind up looking like this:

And whomever hit him was a lefty, because his other eye still looks normal.

So I guess Sam went down... and stayed down.

And that might've been the only good decision Sam made that night, because otherwise it was all crap.  What kinda idiot 13-year-old thinks he's tough enough to go to a bar? 

All I know is, he'd better tell me who got him the I.D. or I'll ground him for an eternity, sohelpmegod.

...Just as soon as I finish giving him bute to reduce the swelling.  And I'm not sorry it tastes bad.

Too bad, tough guy.  What're you gonna do- squint at me?

Don't even get me started on how this has affected Beep.  She's so upset she doesn't know what to do, except spring clean my tack box.

So that's a silver lining, I guess.  My tack box really was pretty grody.  And those wraps needed to be re-rolled.

But don't try to distract me. 

You're still grounded, Sam.  And I'm shredding that fake I.D...  Just as soon as I find it.

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