Horses and itchy twats…..


I’m very different to John’s sisters. They love horses. No, correction…..they are horse befok! I get on well-ish with them but jong, horsey girls are different. As my Aunty Irene always says, “horsey girls have itchy twats”

They just come across as strong and real ball breakers you know? Sometimes I catch John lovingly patting his manhood and checking to make sure it’s still there after a really caustic emasculating barb from one of them. That’s how  a strong horsey woman can be. Their thighs are so muscular that I have, on the odd occasion, heard a grown horse groan in pain and get tears in its eyes from fear and the clenching thighs.

A horsey girl will love their child with 100 percent unadulterated abandonment. They will obsess and teach the child to be tough and scorn the very essence of a ‘towny”. The farm child gets taught that no matter how tough a ‘towny” may be, he/she will NEVER measure up to the strength, knowledge and wit of a farm child.

I thought I loved horses and I do, I just hate riding a horse. I hate roller skating and ice skating. And I especially loathe ski-ing. I love my feet planted firmly on the ground so I can duck whenever I want to do. The same applies to flying, it’s boring and all that waiting for connecting flights and luggage collection is a waste of time. Give me car travel and my all time favourite, train travel anytime.

Anyway, back to John’s sisters…and horsey girls. I once had a horsey girl punch me in the arm. She was laughing at my joke and punched me on the upper arm as a sign of affection and appreciation. I remember that day clearly. The pain was excruciating. My eyes welled up and I fell to my knees in shock. I still have the bruise and the swelling only went down a few weeks ago. She punched me in 1997…

On that note, I have to go and brush Stardust, the pony. The sisters are coming and I’d hate them to see how knotty her mane is.



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