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Bumpy the Bucket-Mouthed Butt-Hatted Buck-Toothed Brahma-Bull-Bustin' Buckaroo
Whew! Now that there’s a mouthful fer ya! But Bumpy has grown a mite fond of his lengthy and alliterative title, so these days each and ever’ one of us announcers is obliged by the management of R&R Riding & Roping to spit it all out right, each time and every time he comes out of the chute!
Welcome to the final day of the rodeo, and to the bumptious display put on by our own local snappy-dressin’ son of the sod!
You might not guess it from Bumpy’s supple moves atop Widowmaker — nastiest bull in 7 counties — but this ol’ ranch hand is pushing the exceedingly ripe age of 80. (And not no big city, desk job, mocha-latte-sippin’, Sunday-football-watchin’, gym membership, Barcaloungered, newspaper-readin’, lotioned, tablecloth-restaurant kind of 80, neither, but a hard, dry, dusty, fence-mendin’, windswept, roll-your-own, lightning-cracked, horse-breakin’, pickup-drivin’, flooded-arroyo, hardtack-chawin’, scorpions-in-yer-boots sort of 80, mind you!)
Yep. Bumpy has bumped his way down a long, hard, dirty road, to be sure. And he has managed to come out just fine on the other end of it. So, all o’ yall put yer hands together, and give the guy his grins, wontcha?! Bumpy is happiest when he’s out in that sun-baked ring of hardpan and danger, bouncin’ around atop a few tons of heaving sirloin on the hoof for 7 seconds or more, soakin’ up the crowd noise like a sponge in a Stetson!
Those of you with little cowboys and cowgirls in tow are welcome to come on down the left end of the grandstand as Bumpy finishes his ride. There, for just three dollars U.S., you can get a picture of your wee ones sittin’ with Bumpy atop a real live Brahma! (Don’t worry, now, ‘cause we’ll replace Widowmaker with his cute little cousin Maisie, who’s as sweet as sorghum pie; we don’t want no trampled young’uns, neither!)
Oh, I know there’s some out there that ain’t so fond of our boy Bump. A died-in-the-plaid-flannel Texan from just a mile or two outside Amarillo, Bumpy here has been a Bushie since you was knee-high to a butterbean. He liked W a lot, but he loved his pappy George W. H.! (Both affections of which are eminently understandable — there are those of lefty leaning who claim — if you were to but glance into the gaping orifice of Bumpy’s broadly spread gums to note the substantial volume of unencumbered air inside that cavernous cowpoke cranium.)
But we all know America is the Land of Look the Other Way! As long as somebody’s got the gumption to git up and show us their stuff — entertain us, feed us, surprise us, amaze us, employ us, amuse us, shock us, seduce us — we’re pretty much able to overlook most anything and just enjoy the moment.
So, as Bumpy shames ol’ Widowmaker into submission and trots that beast around the arena like somebody’s bitch pony, let’s hear the long and thunderous applause this cagey ol’ country coot truly deserves!
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