The Rodeo - Apologies for length, should be worth it...
Ive had my fair share of bullies in my time, mostly due to my dream job as a kid... Rodeo Cowboy,

I used to love it (and still do). Watching a guy pit his wits against a raging animal, getting flung about and playing with lassoo's was surely what every aspiring good idea dreams about doing when they grow up?

I even had all the gear, boots with little spurs, chaps, check shirts and an ace cowboy hat with a sheriff badge! Used to where it everywhere... including school. Kind of put yourself forward for it if your dressed as a cowboy dont you.

My story doesn't centre around my school bullying though would you belive, as about the most original thing the mongs could come up with was riding me round the playground shouting 'yeee hawwww'... Infact it is a story of adult bullying, but why the guff about you loving horses I hear you say? Well a couple of years ago I realised my dream, come nightmare, as it turned out in the end...

For my 21st birthday my parents bought me plane tickets to America and enlisted me on a 2 week 'Rodeo camp'. For the first hour or so I really didn't believe this kind of wonderful place existed! But its true and through teary eyes I thanked my parents and a couple of days later I was on a plane, giddy as school kid who's just downed 5 espressos.

I turned up at 'El Rancho Blanco' and could hardly contain myself, it was just as I'd always dreamed! Huge dusty expanse of the Wild West with a big ol' barn in the middle, I could even see some people russtling up some vittles... It was perfect.

That is until the first meal where we got to meet the other people on this camp, lots of cowboy looking people... Rugged would be the term I'd use, or stacked. I however am not either of those things, nor am I American and, once again, stuck out like pair of fake breasts. Oh the irony, too cowboy to be English, to English to be a cowboy.

The bullying was pretty brutal, almost got branded at one point, had to eat alone (again) and was generally treated like shit by everyone including the instructors who seemed to take a lot of pleasure out of making my dream turn horribly wrong.

I refused to let them beat me though, this was my dream and god damn it im going to be a cowboy! So I took the beatings, the extra chores, the lot and just got on with it.

The strange thing is, you do kind of, i dont know how to describe it, understand the animals you train with. They know what your doing and you can see it in their eyes if they're gonna savage you or just throw you about a bit. Especially with the cows, one in particular I took as my only friend there and on a couple of occasions I stayed on him longer than anyone else could! None of the usual congratulations for me though, rather beastiality based japery...

By mid way through the second week it was getting all too much for me and I was crying in the cattle enclosure, trying to be by myself. All of a sudden my best Bull friend (who I called Barry, so creative) came over to the side of his pen and sort of beckoned me over with his head. Id been talking to him quite a bit before so this didn't seem strange, we were pals afterall. I walked over, still sobbing, and he actually pushed my chin up with his massive bull nose until I was looking strait at him. Then he moved back a bit and made a grand gesture of standing up strait and magnificent, stomping his hoves and generally being manly (or the Bull equivalent) and I knew what he meant... I had to stand up to these cowboy bullies, stop just taking it and fight back!

I felt great at that point and strode out of the enclosure like a new man, Barry even mooed me off, I loved Barry.

Then the next day came and I was fully ready... We were out with the bulls, and Barry was up first. Of course the calls of "Hey cow fucker, get in there with your boyfriend" and the like started up immediately.

I looked over at Barry, he nodded back, and I swung for the nearest guy, knocking him clean off his feet, go me!... It all went a bit downhill from there, the other 20 or so burley men all laid into me and I recieved the kicking of my life. It was ok though until they all threw me into the pen with Barry. I could take a kicking off those cnuts, but what I couldn't take was a 20 tonne bastarding bull goring me in the ass as I lay on the floor... I swear I could hear him laughing in his bullish voice, mocking me just like the rest.

I was airlifted to the nearest hospital and swore never to set foot in America again. And that ladies and gentlemen is my last, and only, experience of "Bull-lies"... the bastard
(Is this a good idea? ... Yes this is definitely a good idea, Thu 14 May 2009, 11:08, 2 replies)

Good effort
But too easy to see coming.

6.2/10

See me later today behind the bikesheds.
( MatJ LOOK, Thu 14 May 2009, 13:07, closed)

But its all true!
*Looks shifty*
(Is this a good idea? ... Yes this is definitely a good idea, Thu 14 May 2009, 13:14, closed)