Too much Viagra and beer.
Too much Viagra and beer.
My wife was out of town,
I hit every club around.
Each time I'd hope to find
A horny woman here.
Country Bob's was the last club that was open.
Near blind drunk and horny, but I was still hopin'.
A pretty woman gave me a glance,
Smiled and said, "Nice pants.
Honey, I'm ridin' if you're ropin'."
A few hours later, I was in a Helluva mess
She's still ridin' hard and screamin', "God, this is the best!"
I was dizzy and light-headed. I had pains in my chest,
But she wouldn't stop long enough to call EMS.
When I came to, I was home in my own bed,
Next to my lovely wife; and this is what she said:
"I picked you up at Country Bob's, my dear;
And there's gonna be some changes around here.
You were fantastic last night;
So, I only think its right
If I supplement your diet
With Viagra and beer."
Viagra and beer. Viagra and beer.
She treats me like a king,
Says I make her body sing;
So, She makes sure I get my Viagra and beer.
Viagra and beer. Viagra and beer.
Yeah, she makes sure I get my Viagra and beer.
We're like newlyweds.
I need a break sometime.
Submitted by: Buzz O'Words
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
Cowboys and angles fell in love
one day the angle loves the cowboy
I am a angle my boyfriend is the cowboy
forever and ever we were in love before
we got together 7 months ago
we both have had
a bad relationship before
we get togther it have been
8 months now we might fight now
and than but it is making
things work out when we fight
I fell like cring but I say that
I'm soory and make up
Copyright © william martin | Year Posted 2013
He was young,
Had his guns on his hip.
Walkin the streets,
With a cigar on his lip.
The town folk were scared,
They knew what he could do.
They have seen what he done,
To a chosen few.
The leather he wore,
Was stained from the powder of his gun.
A sign of the battles,
That the slinger had won.
A family moved in,
That no one knew.
A white man,
And a wife that was sious.
The young man decided,
The lady would not survive.
Because of her color,
She would die.
In the street,
In the middle of town,
This is where the slinger,
Where he gunned her down.
The white man,
Anger in his eyes,
Decided to give the slinger,
Leave this town,
Be gone by noon at best,
Or feel a bullet from my gun,
Deep in you'r chest.
The slinger smiled,
I am too fast,
You are an ole man,
You'r time has past.
You'r time has come ole man,
Take you'r stand,
But I tell you now,
Better have a fast hand.
When the smoke cleared,
The slinger lay on the ground,
With the white man,
The slinger had just one last request,
How did you learn to shoot that way?
The white man answered,
I'm the son of Doc Holiday.
Copyright © Charles Ruble | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
When someone rides the trail alone,
It's a lonely way to go,
Without a place to hitch the heart,
And without a warm, true love to know.
But when a cowboy rides the trail
With his lady by his side,
Even when the traveling's rough,
Life's trail can be a joyful ride.
So, saddle up and hit the trail,
And may your lives be ever blessed,
As you ride along, side by side,
Toward the sunset in the west.
Copyright © William Robinson | Year Posted 2006
if poop could be named anything what would you name it? id name it bob and id make him sit on a log in a bog and say get out of here you hog that looks like fog from a bog thats near a log with bob sitting on it who attacked the wacking wackers with all his heart and shattered, he fell to the floor. dont name your poop bob because then youll have tears in your heart.
Copyright © Matt Poopenheimer | Year Posted 2012
The Saga of dusty roads of Utah
(To the memory of Don W. Esplin, father of Kathryn Esplin-Oleski)
There he was playing with some mild explosives,
in his own backyard, a resolute boy he is;
the June month had swelled like the taut belly of
a neighborhood lady; the boy wanted to be
a scientist which he became. He, of course could not
envision that all these sepia dust of Utah,
the noon backyard and a young scientist’s narrative
would be remembered by his explosive daughter
and a strange Indian was going to pen a saga.
Alfred Nobel was smiling from a page of a book
The boy rolled a cigarette, the smoke’s curlicues
swirl up to grain the picture. A blast almost choked
the bright blue jays and robins. Defused sun slanted.
The end of the road was just an end of the road
where sun could meet earth, warm grass shook off the heat
and the covert window of the farm house would yield
a father and son talk. Strong argument on
future, on an university, on money
on a world that could differ in generations;
of course the boy, as a father, understood
his girl, then living apart. But distance is in heart.
He would grow up midst dreams. A quirky wind would blow him
here and there; navy, marriage and science,
pharmacology and marriage again; a gust
of wind would take him on a ride that, if he could
read this he would have said, resembled his truck rides
down the roads of Utah. But at that point of time
he was wide awake inside his misty night’s sleep
and an American novel is shooting up
its multiple heads in search of fresh oxygen.
The waves of moon were enjoying a full tide.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
Copyright © Kushal Poddar | Year Posted 2009
OK, maybe he is right. Maybe a cowboy he's not. He is a mechanic, a
pediatrician, an obstetrician, a veterinary, a plumber (wells), a house keeper
(stalls), a blacksmith, a dietician, a truck driver, a farmer (crops), a carpenter
(corrals and maternity wards), a construction worker, a landscaper (fencing), a
teacher, a road grader (keeps roads oven year round), a hunter (hunts stray
critters), a trapper (beavers to keep our water ways open and skunks to keep our
sinuses working), a cowboy (cattle work), a welder, a rancher, a ranch hand, a
cowhand and a_______ I give, I give. He is a Jack of all Trades, but since his
name is Billy I can’t go around calling him Jack, so he will always be my cowboy
to me. P. S. he is definitely not a modern cowboy. No three wheelers, no
pickups, no motorcycles. He did his cattle work by horseback.
Copyright © Marycile Beer | Year Posted 2007
Make Your Family First!
I know a person who had “a change of heart.”
And very shortly his family “fell apart.”
He was involved in doing “so many things.”
He neglected the duty of what family brings!
He became so involved in helping others…
He neglected his wife and his kids’ mother!
At first, he had the best of intentions…
But failed to give his family any kind of attention!
He was so busy, and away from home so much.
It didn’t take long for him to be “out of touch.”
Very soon he found his life “way off course…”
And heading down the path of a divorce!
He began to ask himself the question; “why?”
As he began to hear all of his kids cry!
Beyond all of the chaos and “chatter.”
He decided that his family DOES matter!
He quit doing many of the things he once did.
And asked all of his family to please forgive!
He’s now the kind of dad that he needs to be!
And is with his family so faithfully!
May this be a lesson and reminder to us all!
How quickly we can get up. How quickly we can fall!
May we put an effort into our family
as number one!
Every mom and dad! Daughter and son!
By Jim Pemberton
Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2012
He use to carry guns,Back in the day.
But he had put them up,to start a new way.
He found a wife,and would settle down.
Just a short stretch,on the outside of town.
A young daughter,the two would raise.
And soon forgot, his gunslinger days.
Then they came,their intentions were clear.
To rob and kill,anyone who was here.
They left that house,one thing they would dread.
They didn't make sure,everyone was dead.
He opened his eyes,saw her laying on the floor.
As he caught a glimpse of them,a dozen or more.
He healed from his wounds,laid his little girl to rest.
He vowed for revenge,as he opened the chest.
He put his guns on again,looking straight ahead.
He would not stop,until they all were dead.
Out the door he went,to the house he would never return.
He would go to his grave,with a heart that would burn.
And now you know,the gunslingers story is told.
The killing of his family,and the way it would unfold.
Copyright © Charles Ruble | Year Posted 2008
I do not know?
So strong and self assured
He rides alone always wanting more
Never satisfied with what's between those fences
His spirit will wake up your wildest senses
By the cross and thorns that is emblazoned on his arm
His substance runs deeper than his cowboy charm
A tame Christian man with a spirit wild
A man of God, he is your child
His reckless nature will never subside
Yet humble he still has his foolish pride
His heart is bigger than the tallest mountain high
And you feel weak when you look into his eyes
His hands so rough yet so soft to touch
For him no ride is ever too much
He welcomes the mystery that comes in the night
A lover at heart born ready to fight
The complexity of this cowboy man
Every woman dreams with him she would stand
Alone, looking at the midnight moon
In her dreams, she whispers...sometime soon
Copyright © Jacquelyn Lara Johansson | Year Posted 2009
There he goes again, takin’ off on that stud
I know he’ll come back all covered in mud.
It kills me, seein’ him leave
I’m afraid he’ll get hurt even though I know he’s not naïve.
He tells me he thinks about me while sittin’ ‘round the fire eatin’ beans
So then why does he still head out there by all means?
Herdin’ those cattle and movin’ them from town to town
Brings home the bacon, but always seems to get me down.
Seein’ my Cowboy leave breaks my heart
But when he arrives home I’m ‘specially happy we are no longer apart.
I hear his boots tiredly walkin’ up to the door
And just that alone makes me giddy galore.
I know it sounds absolutely silly
But holdin’ those rough chapped hands sure makes me happy.
When he smiles at me his nose crinkles
And I see that the long tough days have given him wrinkles.
It’s crazy how much he has changed
But I know he is still the amazin’ man I engaged.
Copyright © Katie Bourque | Year Posted 2011
I do not know?
The fear of the LORD is the beginning of Wisdom
Prudent are all who live by it Psalm 111:10
AREN’T WE SUPPOSED TO have gotten past fear-motivated worship and
Didn’t God-as-Big-Brother step aside for God-as-Loving-Father?
But is it not “fear of the Lord”
Still one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit that we receive at our Baptism
Affirm in our Confirmation?
Jewish and Christian scholars alike have wrestled with the Hebrew phrase Yirah Adonai
Offering varied and rich commentaries
Recurrent among the interpretations
“Fear of the Lord”
Means “awe and reverence”
As in this context
Can also refer to what we feel when we love someone
Deeply that we would do anything in the world not to hurt him or her
Or damage our relationship with love-ones
Both meanings offer us profound
Wisdom towards growing each day in
Ever-deepening our union with God
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2011
Even though they were apart
They loved together
Stronger than ever
Separated by the years
Two bodies one soul
The kingdom of God
Reunites husband and wife
As the angels sing
Two hearts share their love
Cowboy takes his lady Cile
Dancing through the clouds
I love you Cile
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2007
Honey, Let’s go on Calhoun Road
Its Saturday… Let’s Unload
Drive up to the Cul-De-Sac…
Stop the Truck… and Let’s Jump on Back
With the Radio on – Up- High…
The Bluebirds, will Wave – Bye-Bye
Yeah, Let’s Go Truck… on a Back-Roads-Ride Roundup !
Honk – Uncle Henry… Out His House !
Tell Him… ‘Get Up Off That 40-Ounce
Look at Him Trying to Make Us Hush…
Let His Neighbors Know… He Knows Us!
… We’re His High-Rolling Relatives…
(though He Uses Other Adjectives…)
Oh, Let’s Go Truck… on a Back-Roads-Ride Roundup !
You Know, What We Come Here For
Picnic and Party and Lay Outdoors
Got Money, Snacks and a Whole Lotta’ Gas
Let’s Head ‘em off Honey, at Our Underpass
My Baby’s Got 4-Wheel Drive
I’m gon’ sit back and Enjoy The Ride…
(Leave the Liquor and Let’s Stay Alive) On a Back-Roads-Ride Roundup !
As Our Ranger Rode into the Sunset There
… Saw a Bronco Stampeding, Making Dusty Air
And Silverado, was Coming Up Fast
Oh no!... Little Mustang Slipped Right Past
And Uncle Henry’s Ram Looked Tuff ! …
On Our Back-Roads-Ride Roundup !
(I Posted This One For You John (Moses) Freeman..
(You lil' Ol' Trucker You - - - Enjoy)
Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009
Little did she know
In the middle of the night
Someone was thinking of her
His eyes shone blue and bright
Looking down upon her
Kissing her so gently
Careful not to wake his angel
Who slept in his arms so elegantly
He wraps his arms around her
To shield her from any harm
The air around them so calm and silent
She is his lucky charm
He drifts off to sleep
Still wrapped in sweet simplicity
She fills his dreams every night
With her magnetic personality
The thoughts that fill her dreams
Each and every night
Are ones of growing old and babies
She wishes with all her might
She dreams of a daughter
One to reflect her own self
With eyes that draw you in
And have feelings you’ve never before felt
A smile to make you believe
Everything will be alright
Even if all odds are down
And nothing good is in sight
So silently she sleeps
In her saviors arms
Cause this is her safest place
The one place where she can’t be harmed
Copyright © Kristin Dickerson | Year Posted 2006
Her heart was breaking as she stepped into the bar,
This time her cowboy had pushed her just a little too far.
The neon lights seemed to be calling as the music took it its toll,
Pour me a couple of them little shooters I feel I’m on a roll.
The music was inviting as she watched the couples dance,
Until she met this cowboy who held her in his trance.
She still had on her wedding ring as they danced across the floor,
This cowboy had ill intentions as he danced her to the door.
He said let’s go get some air as casual as that,
She said I’m sorry cowboy I just don’t like the color of your hat.
She turned to walk back in but he grabbed a hold of her,
She said you best be turning loose or else you’ll feel my angry spur.
He turned her loose right then and there this girl with golden hair,
When right behind her stood her cowboy whom she’d thought had been unfair.
He said I’ve come to take you home, and I’m sorry for what I said,
But you’re just so gosh durn pretty I git messed up in my haid.
She said you are my cowboy I’ve got my brand on you,
But you’re gonna have to loosen up on them reins when I ask you to.
He said you got yourself a deal I’ll give it all I’ve got,
No more roping or the rodeos cause honey making you happy truly means a lot.
He grabbed up his little filly and sat her in his truck,
And told her that he loved her and with him she was stuck.
They rode off into the sunset,
This story had a good ending so listen don’t you fret.
Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2008
Sundown, the galloping horse rides in from the pasture.
He, on the back, was sweaty and red from the day’s work
in the sun.
He hungers now, as the cattle have been taken care of.
His day of riding’s complete, but he still has riding on his mind,
the day is almost done.
He knows his woman is there waiting, with something hot for him.
She lays it out for him, making him know that he is the man of the house,
More than her rancher, he provides food, shelter and strength for her.
He is all she ever wanted in a man and more. He is the one, true dream,
yet still is somewhat coy.
She, like the women of tradition, treated the man as a man, but with decorum.
She, also, expected nothing less from this man, though rugged, uncultured,
he remains her good boy.
Dinner, now over, her chores to clean the table and kitchen are now done.
He, with his pipe, a man of kindness and comfort, invites her to dance
in the light of the moon.
She, being the woman, passionate and that loves this man dearly,
quickly says yes to the invitation and joined her man for the dance
as she started to swoon.
Within her eyes, he knew of no other beauty, not the pasture, the horses,
nor even the sky.
She, with the dance, knew of no better love, both lover and friend, her man,
Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2008