Brazen Billy and the Curse of the Cardboard Cowgirl

Y'all gonna love this one, but first....

Way to fucking go MIAMI HEAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

First trip ever to the finals and they bring home the trophy. Down 0-2, they came back to win 4 in a row and leave Dallas in the dust. No offense to the Texas bloggers, the Mavs played some good ball - they just couldn't take the Heat. Gotta run out and buy myself one of them '06 Champion hats now.

Okay, now, the cowgirl.

Bout 6 weeks ago I was working with the boys over in Plant City; we had a deadline so I donned my tools and worked for a week. We were frequenting a convenience store there, in it everyday for a week or so. The first time I walked in that door it was over, she had captured my heart. Standing there, in a wifebeater and jeans with a pair of black chaps, holding some rope; I shiver just to think of that first day. The cowgirl, hanging out, advertising for Copenhagen, just looking all kinds of hot - I had to have her.

I grabbed a water and some cookies, yeah, great lunch, and went to the counter. Habib adds it up and asks if I need anything else. I say yeah, how much for the cowgirl. He just looks at me. So I turn to her and point, how much for the cowgirl I ask. Habib smiles and laughs and says she not for sale. Being me, I say of course she is, everythings for sale, how much for the cowgirl? Again he laughs and says she's not for sale. Dammit! Alright. and I leave.

But, like I said, we were there everyday for a week or so. Everyday I'd ask Habib, how much for the cowgirl. Everyday the same answer, she's not for sale. Everyday that is till the last day. I ran in for a bag of ice and took it to the counter with a $10 bill. Habib sees me and smiles waiting for the inevitable question. Say it with me people - "how much for the cowgirl?"

Guess Habib had a bad morning and he started to go off a little bit, that or maybe I was just getting on his nerves. He looks at me and says what will you give me for her, being a skinflint pirate I say I'll give him the $10 for the bag of ice and the cowgirl. With the ice being about $1.40 he stood to make about a little over 8 bucks on the transaction. He took it. HE TOOK IT! She was mine, all MINE, I now had a cowgirl. A damned hot cowgirl. A cowgirl made of cardboard standing on a Copenhagen ad. Folks, meet Charlotte, the cardboard cowgirl.
Okay, story of my life, you got it, now what you gonna do with it? First off, she lived in the garage. She killed, excellent conversation starter. Really. Many asked what the Mrs. thought of her, told them honey said as long as she didn't come home and find me in bed with her she was cool with it. I can be a little quirky, not that y'all had noticed. But... It didn't take long till she started creeping me out. I'd be working outside and cruise into the garage for something and notice a woman standing in the garage. Okay so maybe I'd been smokin a little but when you don't expect her she can startle you. After a whole weekend I'd had enough.

I thought okay, well, let's put her in the work trailer. Maybe the boys wouldn't mind her hanging around. Wrong, they'd go in the trailer to get something and she'd freak them too. It wasn't long before talk turned to making her walk the plank or some other landlubber type demise. I don't think she took it too well.

Last week I had to move the trailer from one job to another. I checked everything out inside first to make sure it was ready to roll, everything was secure. I hitched it up and drove it about 12 miles to the next jobsite, never swerved, never veered, nuthin. When I got it there, parked it and opened it up - the place was trashed. Everything had broken loose, even the shelving screwed to the wall. Tools and screws and cords scattered. On top of the pile, Charlotte. How the hell did that happen?

Now, who knows what drew her ire. Was it the talk of getting rid of her? Don't know. But she must of been pissed about something. Maybe she knew the wife and I had been getting busy the night before and that pissed her off.

Come Friday it was time to turn the work trailer into a toy hauler. I towed it home and emptied out all the equipment, installed wheel chocks and tie downs and loaded the motorcycles for our trip to Cedar Key. Before we left Saturday I checked the tie downs, everything was secure. We made it up to New Port Richey and stopped for something to eat. I decided to check the bikes. Mine had fallen over into the wifes, my throttle handle had dented her gas tank and scraped some paint. Dammit! I untied it, stood it up and retied it. All the while feeling miserable about the dent and such in the wife's bike.

She assured me that all was okay and that it could be fixed, we were still gonna have a good time. That I never expected, but I welcomed. All retied we took off again. Now I'm paranoid about it and stopped about 35 miles later to check them again. Same damn thing. Now there was another dent in her tank, fuck, fuck, fuck. The mrs. still took it well. This time when I retied it I also wrapped a heavy towel around my throttle. If it did fall again it shouldn't hurt so bad, wrong. It fell, the towel was off and now there was a third dent.
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Again I retied and we made it to Cedar Key without further incident. We had a great time, a nice room and enjoyed beautiful weather. We ate, drank, ate, drank and enjoyed the water. Here's a view from the balcony.
All went well, we went riding Sunday morning without inncident, had a great ride. Got back to the hotel and loaded up my bike and then started with the wife's. After the damage from the ride I was a little paranoid about loading hers but started up the ramp, fearing I was gonna hit her mirror on the door I stopped. Front tire in the trailer, rear tire on the ramp, no problem, I'll just hit the gas and cruise on in, wrong. I hit the throttle and the back tire spun the ramp out from under the bike and the bike fell with a loud clunk onto the trailer floor with the back tire hanging in the air.

It only took me 5 minutes to drag the damned thing out of the trailer. It's effin heavy. Finally repositioned the ramp and got the bike in. So tell me why did this shit only happen to the wife's bike anyway? Gotta wonder. Oh and they didn't fall on the way home. WTF?

So, the cause of all this has been blamed on the curse of the cardboard cowgirl..Whether it's true or not, that what the pirate believes. So, if anyone is interested, there's a cowgirl available in Tampa. Drop me a line and I'll mail her to you. I take no responsibility for what happens after she gets there though.