The Rocky Mountain Oyster Mystery

What a strange situation I find myself in. Usually, I jump at the chance to try new things, especially food. But what I find before me today does not smell, look or in anyway seem like something delicious. Where are the petals? Where is the fresh dandelion smell? And there’s no green. Doesn’t food usually have some type of green in it? They’re called Rocky Mountain Oysters and I guess you’re supposed to eat them.

I have heard about them. I have seen them. I have heard people telling Fred to try them. Still, there is something not quite right about these Rocky Mountain Oysters.

So far, my only lead are the other people who talk about them. I have been invited to something called the Testy Festy. From what I’ve been able to find out, it’s a festival that celebrates bulls balls. Needless to say, the next time I get an invite to that party, I am definitely going to show up. Everyone knows I have the biggest bulls balls around, so no festival that celebrates them is really complete without me there. What I don’t get, is how they are linking bulls balls and the oysters from Rocky Mountain.

As far as I know, oysters come from under the water, near beaches and you have to dive for them. I guess that means somewhere in the Rocky Mountains is a big body of water that must have a lot of oysters. I mean, they have so many that it can dredge up enough to feed people at festivals all year around. See, I heard about this other Festival called the Rocky Mountain Oyster Feed. I think Fred got an invite to this one and talked about trying to get there next year. Apparently, there are tons more all over the place.

If I go to enough of them, I bet I can find out what the link is between oysters and these festivals. When I do, maybe I can get Fred to make a t-shirt about it.

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Bull of Your Dreams

Have you ever seen a big beautiful pair of balls like mine? Of course not! My name is Seymour and I am one in a million. I’m a Brahman bull reaping the rewards of ranch life for a genuine stud. That’s right, half the Brahmans around here are made in my image. When I walk through, everyone takes notice and clears a path. I was just getting used to the perks of respect, when I met Fred for the first time. He took some pictures and gave me a good meal. Now I get to travel sometimes and see myself on t-shirts, caps, aprons and other things. Not sure why that happens, but as long as my meals keep coming and my horns stay polished, I’m in!

It’s hard to believe that life didn’t start like this for me. I know I was born somewhere else, another ranch that’s hard to remember now. It was a long time ago and I was just a newborn Brahman calf looking at the world for the first time. Of course, there are some things you don’t forget. The feel of sunlight on your back for the first time. The taste of your first good meal. Running through the pasture with the wind in your face. I remember that first someone who gave me dandelions to munch on, delicious. Always the soul of courtesy, I tried to share them. I left some on his face with my tongue, but my would-be handler didn’t seem to like them as much as I did. After that, I learned that it’s okay not to share food with people. Though, they don’t feel the same way about cake and birthday parties, but that’s another story.

One day, while growing up on that old ranch, I met this man named Fred. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe it was fate, but Fred had some dandelions in his pocket and I spied them out. He must have seen me eying them, because he came right over and offered. He took some pictures, laughed and then gave me more dandelions. We became quick friends. Even when I moved to this new ranch and became a full fledged stud, Fred followed and stuck with me. We have a great arrangement, I get my special snack and he gets to take some pictures. As I said, I became a stud for the ranch about then too. It seems the cows just cannot resist my shiny horns with their perfect curve and the large balls I sport below. Now the proud father of 34 sons and 26 daughters (that’s a lot of Brahman bulls and cows!), I guess I just had a real knack for breeding.

I’m not one to boast, but between those pictures that Fred takes and the many Brahmans I’ve helped bring into this world, you can see my likeness everywhere. It’s on cowboy t-shirts, biker t-shirts, just about every ranch with cattle down here, and even on those aprons people wear to cook. I’ve been to a few rodeos (my cousin kinda famous in that area) and it seems people know me right away. “There goes that famous stud, Seymour!” Then more pictures get taken and then I see more funny t-shirts, though sometimes the pictures end up as funny caps. Weird.

The point is, I have seen and done more than any Brahman bull before me. With this space here, I plan to detail my life and it’s adventures as they happen. It’s a favor to Fred and he is my friend. Besides, I get an extra helping of dandelions during each meal for it. Hard to turn that down.

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