The Literary Drover No. 1700


From notes made on the human condition:

Sitting on the wrap-around porch of a friend’s house located in a rural area surrounded by plains dotted with Rabbitbrush and sage, and snow-capped mountain peaks in the distance, a relation, visiting, grumbled about the lack of technology available. My friend, “Dane”, who embodies the patience of the biblical Job, ignored the whining of the city visitor, and said after a moment, quietly, “Whoop.”

The relation turned, his eyes wide in response to the remark, and said, “What?”

Dane winked at me and said, “Weather’s coming.”

“How do you know,” the relation asked.

“The cows,” Dane said. “They’re all pointing the same direction.”

Where I come from, that’s humor.


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