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Black: The Toast

It gives me great pleasure to stand here today

To heap limelight on one in our midst

Who has mastered the art of vulgar display



Yet, when asked to desist it … he didst

“You dog kickin’, mule whippin’, carp eatin’ crud. Yer a bagful of grizzly bear bait. You never sweat, no workin’, blank shootin’ dud, yer the reason for bicarbonate.”

There are those among us who are more qualified



To encouch in a language precise

The discrepant reasons of why you abide

With us always, like typhus or lice

Why I have been chosen, I cannot explain

I’ve no keen repartee to impart

But I’m honored, so, though my words may seem plain

Be assured that they come from the heart

You mare ridin’, mouth breathin’, egg suckin’ skunk

Yer the kind who drowns kittens for fun

You hat stealin’, hole peepin’, pencil neck punk

Yer the blister on everyone’s bun

You dog kickin’, mule whippin’, carp eatin’ crud

Yer a bagful of grizzly bear bait

You never sweat, no workin’, blank shootin’ dud

Yer the reason for bicarbonate

You scrofulous, wool slippin’, miscreant scum

Yer the grease off a Hell’s Angels’ comb

You bilgewater, bog drinkin’, boot lickin’ bum

Yer a bucket of thundering foam

To sum up yer good points could be quite a chore

There’s so many that it’s hard to say

You’re either au jus off a dog kennel floor

Or the nit in a wino’s toupee

Regardless, we love ya. I don’t like to boast

But our standards are really quite high

And though you seem lacking, I’ll offer a toast.

‘Cause the truth is, yer our kinda guy!❖


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Baxter Black

Feedlot Heroes

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Now and then I get to thinkin’ I should quit this feedlot job.



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