Mountain Oyster Fry

Once a year the cattle farmers of Apache pool their resources and get together to wrassle calves (or something).
I was pulled in to the gathering and closely watched to see if this boy from Africa knew anything. At all. Well, they knew I didn’t by then, but I was good for a laugh!

We rounded up the calves, corralled them and roped them, brung them down and trussed them up.

We then:
De-horned them with pincers; Cauterised the stumps with a red-hot metal ‘dome’;
Injected them – inoculation; Castrated them with a pen-knife (not me!); Branded them with a red-hot branding iron.

okla wrangling calves_2
summing like this

Then released them into the next pen, where they stood around bleating with a WTF!? expression on their dials.

After a long day we went home, washed up and gathered in Walter & Pug Hrbacek’s barn for the Big Annual Mountain Oyster Fry, where we fried mountain oysters and ate them covered in batter, washing them down with Coors beer.

What reminded me about it was this:

Ball with Jesus_Testicle

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Job Titles & Responsibilities

My host Dad Jim was vice-president of the local bank. One morning he and his friend Tom the president were strategising and planning (OK, drinking coffee), in Tom’s office, having got in earlier through the back door (staff entrance).

One of the ladies popped her head in: “It’s opening time and a dog has left a great big “do” right in the entrance. It needs to be cleaned up, please gentlemen”.

Tom looks at Jim: “Well Jim, you’re in charge of deposits!”

.

This pic is the old Apache State Bank, not Tom’s bank. Also known as American National Bank; The Inman Building; Corner of Evans and Coblake Avenues, Apache