Showing posts with label cowgirls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cowgirls. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
It's a Girl - My Lord! - In a Flatbed Ford
Now I don't want to draw too much from this, but do the lyrics of this Eagles song make you a little nostalgic?
The dude's running away - possibly doing the fadeout - on seven women;
Well, I'm running down the road
Tryin' to loosen my load
I've got seven women on my mind
Four that wanna own me
Two that wanna stone me
One says she's a friend of mine
With one aim in mind, he's;
Lookin' for a lover
Who won't blow my cover
She's so hard to find...
Which is where we meet the girl in Winslow driving the flatbed Ford. The way she can save him is to seize the moment for some uncommitted random fucking.
Come on, baby
Don't say maybe
I gotta know if your sweet love
Is gonna save me
We may lose and we may win
Though we will never be here again
So open up, I'm climbin' in
And take it easy
Subtle use of the "climbin' in" metaphor.
It's reflective of a misguided instinct: the way to leave one (or seven) women is to take up with someone fresh - close all the doors of the past by opening a new one. Yeah, that never works.
The vanity here is telling, although I'm sneakily smiling at the complete absence of any sexual political posturing. This tune represents the apogee of the Californian/hippy/baby-boom/free love/whatever feels good/just do it age perfectly, as well as (arguably) the apogee of money-making from having a good time.
Lucky bastards.
Bottoms Up, and do whatever feels good.
Take It Easy lyrics © Jackson Browne/Swallow Turn Music/Night Kitchen Music/Open Window Music.
Labels:
booty call,
cowgirls,
fadeout,
first dates,
first fuck,
running away,
splitting up
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The Anvil
I wouldn't have believed it had I not witnessed it with my own peepers. Some things are too jarring and discordant for contemplation, but here it was in front of me: proof that women are just like men.
Let me back up. In a bizarre twist of life, I find myself involved in an activity new to me, namely car-pooling. A new guy arrived in the pool last week - I hope he showers before donning his trunks just a lame 'pool' joke there but I have to do something to keep my sanity - joining my friend and I for a joyous two x forty minute ride. Every day.
To look at him is to be impressed. He's six-three or four (around .00057 Eiffel Towers for you internationalists) and big...by which I mean he's probably 300 ellbees. He is blessed with good looks - even I can see that - somewhere between a corpulent Colin Farrell and a gone-to-seed Clooney. But his looks aren't my point (even if they're his.)
An hour-and-a-half a day sitting in a car with a bloke pretty quickly leads to a character assessment. Is he serious or flippant, calm or emotional, a doer or a dreamer? Conversation leads to conclusions. I'll tell you what this dude is; he's an anvil. He's heavy, metallic and really not much good for anything. After a week, there's a lot of silence on our drive.
So it was with interest that I observed him out on Saturday night. He likes ladies, and even went so far as to offer that he is picked-up more than he picks, which I am shocked to reveal is true. In the course of a couple of hours I saw two women approach him and flash their interest. He is like an irresistible target for rogue women cruise missiles. They all want to blow him....up.
Once again I'm faced with having to question my thinking that women are more refined than men. Nope. They want tall guys with looks. That's it.
Bottoms Up, Ironsmiths.
Let me back up. In a bizarre twist of life, I find myself involved in an activity new to me, namely car-pooling. A new guy arrived in the pool last week - I hope he showers before donning his trunks just a lame 'pool' joke there but I have to do something to keep my sanity - joining my friend and I for a joyous two x forty minute ride. Every day.
To look at him is to be impressed. He's six-three or four (around .00057 Eiffel Towers for you internationalists) and big...by which I mean he's probably 300 ellbees. He is blessed with good looks - even I can see that - somewhere between a corpulent Colin Farrell and a gone-to-seed Clooney. But his looks aren't my point (even if they're his.)
An hour-and-a-half a day sitting in a car with a bloke pretty quickly leads to a character assessment. Is he serious or flippant, calm or emotional, a doer or a dreamer? Conversation leads to conclusions. I'll tell you what this dude is; he's an anvil. He's heavy, metallic and really not much good for anything. After a week, there's a lot of silence on our drive.
So it was with interest that I observed him out on Saturday night. He likes ladies, and even went so far as to offer that he is picked-up more than he picks, which I am shocked to reveal is true. In the course of a couple of hours I saw two women approach him and flash their interest. He is like an irresistible target for rogue women cruise missiles. They all want to blow him....up.
Once again I'm faced with having to question my thinking that women are more refined than men. Nope. They want tall guys with looks. That's it.
Bottoms Up, Ironsmiths.
Labels:
attraction,
bars,
cowgirls,
observation,
stereotypes,
wtf
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Friday Fluffer - Cowboys like Cowgirls

Coworkers are more likely to end up with each other, so it's no surprise that love blooms between the chaps. Cowboys and cowgirls too are getting it on all over the place, although it's likely most of them have never roped anything more than soap. City Cowpersons in Honda Civics outnumber Horseborne Cowpersons approx. 1000 to 1.
Country music (in the form of Big & Rich) supplied a public service announcement against animal cruelty with their tune "Save a Horse [Ride a Cowboy]." Seemingly obvious advice, but wait until you've been on a month-long cattle drive - Trigger will begin to look mighty attractive, if a somewhat sloppy kisser.
For the horseless Urban Cowboy out there who likes his morning latte, THIS coffee store is for you.
Cowgirl Espresso :-) <-----Link Safe For Work
Bottoms Up, Cowpats!
Interested in Cowgirl Yoga? That's where the picture's from [link]
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