Friday, October 7, 2011

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 3 Issue 39

I’m not entirely sure how true this story is about my Grandpa Dick but Poncho has been told it miles away in a small town bar years after it happened and Stubby claims to be an eye witness to the account. So uh here uh, here uh, here uh, here uh we go.

My mom and aunts grew up with horses of which their lives were completely ruined by according them (tough life when you have a pony isn’t it?) oh yeah owning a pizza house to eat from whenever must have been terrible as well. In any case seeing how it was 6 females versus my grandpa he tended to drink (can’t really blame the man) and one of his watering holes was just up the road from the house.

Well seeing how the distance was too far to walk and Grandpa was all about safety first and didn’t want to drink and drive he would ride the horse up to the bar (genius I know). So one day Grandpa is more than likely up to his eyes in estrogen so decides to take a ride up to the bar. Unfortunately on the way there it started to rain so being the animal lover he was Grandpa Dick simply rode the horse into the bar to get it out of the rain (I mean it only makes sense you know).

Everything was going fine until the horse took a shit in the bar by a game of 8 ball and really upset everyone in the bar except for Grandpa Dick (where else is it supposed to go, I mean it can’t flush a toilet). Some family members were called to come and get Grandpa Dick and the horse out of the bar and they did but there were some consequences for his actions. The bar soon after put up a sign that read:

Banned 1 week from the bar:

Dick Leach and the horse he rode in on

Hahaha that makes me laugh every time I hear it. I was reminded of this story the other day when for some unknown reason I was thinking about my first stay at Porter Hospital. I’ve mentioned how in the Wards us patients really lean on each other. I didn’t know this at first and was kind of caught off guard on how honest everyone was in there. It was inspiring and made me search out for others to help.

The first girl I spoke with was a rodeo cowgirl, I think she did barrel races, who was in the Ward because of a boy (aren’t we just pricks sometimes, but you ladies aren’t all sugar and spice all the time either). She had tried to take her life because of him. We talked for awhile and we were able to come to the conclusion that that prick definitely wasn’t worth all of this going on around us.

It was a great feeling to help someone out like that, it made it easier for me to handle what was going on in my life. Maybe that’s why the Wards leave us to ourselves a lot. They know working together and fighting together is the best medicine (although it’s probably more of a budget thing but a guy can dream). So what’s the moral of the story? Is it the connection of the rodeo cowgirl with my mom and horses being some sort of sign? Maybe it’s working together should be something I look to achieve in more areas of my life other than just fighting BMD?

Nope, the fact that the cowgirl was released that next day and I was stuck in that Ward for days afterwards proves I must really have been bat-shit crazy. But I mean my Grandpa finds solace by riding a horse into the bar and allowing it to drop a deuce on the floor by the pool table, should I have expected anything else?nce many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

ming Correct, d01roK

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