Saturday, November 24, 2012

Hobo Life

I think I might head out to New Mexico for a 'working vacation'.  There is a bit of research I need to do before this 'big idea' becomes a reality.

A side note for my 'big ideas'.  I have a lot of them, and they are all fabulous and will make anyone that tackles them extremely rich, or wonderfully happy.  If they live through it.

Today, it's wild cattle wrangling.  I guess all the thousands of cattle that meander aimlessly through our plain lands sometimes get lost.  Now this seems to be obvious, seeing that cows are beautiful, empty headed, over sized  furry worms.  Of course worms with four legs, ears eyes, a tail... ok, so maybe they are more like potatoes.  At least potatoes have eyes.

So these wild cows are roaming around our wilderness, happy and free.  Time to trap em and bring them back to civilization.  At least that's what ranchers think we should do with them, or the government, or hobos looking for their next meal.  I'm not sure who pays you for the cow when you walk him into town on a leash, but someone will.  I think I'll just walk them to the nearest feed store and wait.  Someone will notice me with my wild cow and know what to do.


Apparently, the going rate for wrangling a wild cow is two to three hundred dollars per cow.  That's like a car payment a day.  A week of cow catching is a house payment.  In fact, the more cows I can leash, the bigger the house I could buy.  Not like I would, I like living in a tree house.

I don't really live in a tree house, but it's close enough because the houses in this neighborhood are getting old.  They were built using twigs and spit by drunk workers that mixed up which house should be built on which lots.  Seriously.  My neighbor's house should have been built on my lot and vice versa.  Both of our driveways lead to the back side of our house.  Brilliant.  The twigs and spit are slowly disintegrating into the leaf litter.  Soon this area will be natural space again with a few hobos living among the ruins.  That'd be me.

Maybe I should bring home one of the wild cows, or two.  I'd let them mate then eat their young.  You know, because the old ones meat would be too tough.  Don't judge, hobo life is hard.

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