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driftersifter
Guest
I was at the C store getting gas and beer for the weekend and the cashier was missing his right pinkie to the farm so to speak. I have my farm scars, they are mostly visual. One that was more hands on than I needed, was when I was 12 yrs old and decided to help the local sale barn load some 500 pounders into a trailer. I got too close and one steer let out a jump kick and laid her in the homerun pouch. I went down on my backside rolling around in the fresh nervous squirts. The regulars laughed and joshed me for years afterward. My grandfather made me ride in the back of the truck home as the back of my crewcut down was covered.
driftersifter
driftersifter