Say Something Funny...B*tch

First of all, BALLER.

Second of all, let me introduce myself.  I’m Rebecca Leib.  I’m a writer.  You may know me from such publications as Art Ltd., Beautiful/Decay and-

wait.

You’re riding a horse. 

Fuck it. 

The first thing I noticed about you was your sheer height.  You see, not many people ride horses around these parts.  I’m pretty sure you are cognizant of that, unless you are insane.  So, who knows?  It would not be the first time I openly admired a person who is categorically insane, but it would be the first time that I did so and said person was in command of a 2,000 pound animal. So, kudos to you!

By your dreadlocks and your homeless-yet-equestrian-appropriate garb, you seem like the kind of guy who likes to be comfortable, but also take risks. 

I admire that. 

There is a thin line between looking like a Rastafarian crossing guard mountee and a Goodwill discard pile, and I’d say you were skirting that line but for your impeccably-kept saddle.  Where did you get such a nice, English-style saddle?  Saddles will run you a couple thousand dollars, and judging by the thickness of your facial hair and your minimum attention to dental hygiene, I would say that you perhaps could not afford such a grandiose expenditure.

…Did you kill a man and take his saddle?

I’m sorry if I sound assumptive.  I don’t mean to judge your life, your lifestyle, or how you wish to be perceived by the wide array of sex shop workers and patrons on this street. 

I surely don’t mean to call you insane, unless you are that. So…are you insane?  Are you a prophet from some book in the New Testament that I wouldn’t have recognized because I’m a dirty, dirty Atheistic Jew? 

I mean, I assume you are religious, from the backpack you’re wearing and the gigantic cross dangling out of it.  

But again- maybe I’m just being assumptive.  I don’t mean to be.  In a world where fucking apeshit crazy people on horseback and super, hypersexy comediennes in flannel could be friends, by god, WE WOULD BE.  But for now,  you have inspired me.  I leave you with some famous poetry modified to fit in with my life from one of my favorite hobbies, modifying famous poetry to fit in with my life.

This one’s Robert Frost.  You may know of him, or perhaps you are carrying around something of his in your dirty backpack?

“Stopping by Hollywood on a Smoggy Evening.” By Robert Frost BUT ALSO AND REBECCA LEIB

Whose limo dispatch buildings these are I think I know.   

His house is in Franklin Village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his limo dispatch buildings fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the Loteria and Trader Joe’s  

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and Trannies Trannies Trannies.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I P90X,   

And miles to go before I P90X.

You’re Welcome.

Rebecca