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I'll take a cup of black stallion please?

Issue Date: Wednesday, Mar. 12, 2003

I am feeling a bit of a loss today. The one thing that has been a daily constant in my life for over the past decade is not with me. The Cup is a horrid creature, but one that travels this daily path I trod as my constant companion. It is an old 34 oz. (NOT 32 mind you) Chevron give-away cup from the South Side Chevron in Nacogdoches, TX. I got that cup the freshman year of my college experience, and it has been with me daily ever since.

Today, however, I was too busy looking at Mister’s mouth and thinking how much I would rather stay at home curled up in his lap to realize that I was walking off and leaving The Cup behind.

The Cup used to be filled constantly with exotic treats such as Dr. Pepper and Lorena’s Pink Lemonade, but more often than not, it was just filled with ice water. It makes me thirsty to just think about it.

Texas is a hot place, and one must stay hydrated, otherwise have the misfortune of a mouth that tastes like you’ve been eating crackers and sand.

The Cup is insulated and can keep anything cold all day long*. There is, I am sorry to say, a crack down the outside of the cup. I put it on the roof of my sexy-chic-mobile one-day and pulled out of my parking space without retrieving it before it could hit the pavement with a sickening Crack! I was mortified.

*All day long unless you are in the East Texas sun… in the middle of July… on an old John Deere tractor bush hogging the pasture. Don’t ask.

The crackers and sand reference above makes me want to crunch up saltines in my mouth and then whistle. Readers Note: Do this outside unless you have a flock of parrots or non-rabid squirrels living in your home. They will clean it up for you.

Today is slightly muggy and a little warm. Here it comes ya’ll… Spring. I can feel it. I do like to drive when not going to work, but the stretch of road that I travel to get to the office gets so green in the spring and summer that it hurts my eyes. Either that or the beauty gets to me & I blame the weepiness on pollen or some such shit.

I travel thru horse country on a daily basis and I have developed this fantasy life where I am the lady of a manor on one of the horse farms that I drive past. There is this monster black stallion (part draft horse I think because of the fetlocks and size, he’s no Percheron tho) that is kept in a large grassy pasture on the north side of the road. In my fantasy he comes to me with just a whistle and I can ride him bareback with no bridle, just the gentle coaxing my voice and the pressure of my thighs make him respond.

My my, aren’t we a bit bodice ripper with our descriptions today?

Well, hell, if I’m gonna go there, might as well go all the way.

At midnight along the crest of the hill, in the blue light of the full moon, I would ride this stallion with my eyes closed and my face turned towards the wind. Arms outspread (a la’ Kevin Costner “Dances With Wolves” style… (Shut up.)) welcoming the night and the cool relief from the day.

Hmmm.

Anyway, Mister and I were coming out this way to go to a concert for his birthday back in February and I pointed out the stallion to him. He was sweet enough to stop on our way home so I could get out, call the stallion over (he came to me! Woo hoo!), blow in his nostrils* and take a picture.

*No, I’m not some big dork, going around blowing in strange horses' nostrils for no reason. That is how they get to know you.

That was very cool.

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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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