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You ever been to a rodeo? I went to one recently, and let me tell you, it's like the Wild West threw up and everyone decided to cheer for it! I don't understand how people willingly climb on the back of a bull that's angrier than my ex-girlfriend when I forgot our anniversary. I mean, who came up with the idea of riding a bull? I imagine it went something like this:
Cowboy 1: "Hey, Jim, you know what would be fun?"
Cowboy 2: "What, Dave?"
Cowboy 1: "Let's hop on that giant, angry animal with horns the size of my mortgage!"
And there you have it, the birth of the rodeo. I tried riding a mechanical bull once, and let me tell you, that thing had it out for me. I swear it was programmed to throw me off like a malfunctioning carnival ride.
I asked the operator afterward, "Is this bull on hard mode or something?" He just laughed and said, "Nah, it's just your riding skills." Yeah, my riding skills are so bad, even a machine is judging me.
But seriously, rodeos are wild. I saw a guy get launched into the air and do a perfect somersault. I can't even do a somersault on solid ground, and this guy did it mid-air after being thrown by a bull. I give him a 10 for style, but a 2 for life choices.
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So, I decided to try something different and participate in a local rodeo. I figured, why not? How hard could it be to ride a bull? Spoiler alert: very hard. I signed up, put on my cowboy hat, and strutted into the arena like I was the star of a spaghetti western. The bull had this look in its eyes, like it was plotting my demise. I should've taken that as a sign to turn around and head straight to the petting zoo.
As soon as the gate opened, I clung to that bull like a kid clings to their security blanket. But that bull had other plans. It bucked, it spun, and I clung on for dear life like a cat to a curtain. Eventually, I was airborne, and the ground rushed up to greet me like a long-lost friend.
As I lay there, contemplating my life choices, the bull looked down at me as if to say, "Nice try, city slicker." I swear I heard it moo in mockery. So, my rodeo career lasted all of seven seconds—probably less than it takes most people to decide on a Netflix show to watch.
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You ever tried impressing someone with a romantic gesture and ended up at a rodeo? No? Just me? Well, let me tell you, nothing says "I love you" like the smell of manure and the distant roar of an angry bull. I thought it would be a unique date idea, you know, something different. But my date didn't seem impressed. I guess flowers and chocolates are more her speed than the adrenaline-fueled world of bull riding.
I tried to salvage the situation by suggesting we take a romantic ride on the Ferris wheel. You know, up high, away from the chaos below. Little did I know, the Ferris wheel operator had a sense of humor (or a vendetta against romance) and decided to stop us at the very top, leaving us dangling like a couple of scared pigeons.
As we swung back and forth, high above the rodeo madness, I realized that maybe my idea of romance needs some refining. Note to self: next time, stick to dinner and a movie. At least there, the only danger is whether the popcorn will be too buttery or not buttery enough.
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You know who has the craziest job at a rodeo? The rodeo clown. I mean, imagine going to work every day knowing your main job is to distract an angry bull. It's like, "Hey, Mr. Bull, don't gore the cowboy; come after me while I dance like a maniac in this colorful outfit!" I feel like being a rodeo clown is a mix of bravery and poor life decisions. They must go through clown college and then attend a special "How to Dodge a Charging Bull 101" class. I can't even dodge a slow-moving shopping cart at the grocery store, and these guys are out there dodging animals that probably skipped anger management classes.
I wonder if rodeo clowns have therapy sessions. "Today, we'll explore your fear of giant horns and how it relates to your childhood trauma of losing at musical chairs."
And have you seen the makeup on those clowns? I bet they use waterproof mascara because, with all the sweat and bull slobber, regular makeup wouldn't last five minutes. I can't even get my mascara to stay put during a sad movie, and these guys are out there, face-painted superheroes of the bullfighting world.
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