Prayers for rodeo cowboys



Dear Lord, we are gathered here today to buck these broncos and to humiliate these bulls, your massive, stupid, and angry creatures, that remind us so much of Rosie O'Donnell but lacking her mephitic stink that trails behind her like the way some old man leaving a Port-A-Potty trails twenty five or thirty feet of toilet paper behind him because it got stuck on the right heel of his Red Wing work boots.

 Lord, all of us gathered here today lament the loss of Lil' Lasso Louie, the merriest Mexican any of us have ever knowed and whom you called home to that big rodeo in the sky last year when The Widow-Maker shook him off his back within two seconds and then reared back and bit off his Lil' Legs like they were two baby carrots.

 Lord, we ask that you bless us and keep us from having El Diablo, the meanest bull what ever lived, buck us off his back and grab us by our legs and toss us way the hell up into the air and then, as we hurtle back down towards the dusty arena, filled with fear, screaming like a New Baby Momma what just had her EBT Card stolen, and leaking feces out of the cuffed legs of our Wrangler Blue Jeans, please, we plead with you Our Creator, prevent El Diablo from impaling us in our nut sacks directly on his sharpened horns.

 Amen.

 And, because the Bull Rider is named Dallas:




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