Rodeo Quotes

Don't fuck with me, fellas. This ain't my first time at the rodeo.

In high school I barely made the rodeo team. But I wasn’t good enough to start, so I just rode the bench.

When you choose a man who thinks eight seconds is a long time, perhaps you need two of them. Hmm?

I wouldn't miss this fake-homo show for all the Gucci Shoes on Rodeo Drive.

I’m beginning to sense a theme,” Mircea said, tossing his suit coat over a buckskin-covered chair. A moose head with huge, outspread antlers loomed over it, its bright glass eyes looking oddly lifelike in the low light. Mircea took in the room, his expression slightly repulsed yet fascinated. “I believe there is only one thing to say at this point.” What’s that?” Yee haw,” he said gravely, and took me down like a rodeo calf.

La felicidad y la desdicha estan a veces muy cerca. Expresado de otra forma se podria decir que la felicidad da a veces curiosos rodeos

Sometimes I think life is just a rodeo, the trick is to ride and make it to the bell.

Instead, I have the alien version of Grumpy Cat, and he just roped and tied me like a calf at a rodeo. Asshole.

You don't want a tiny diamond on your finger when you can have three carats. You don't want a one-dollar bill when you can have a Benjamin. And you don't want to ride a miniature pony when you can saddle up on a rock-star cock at the rodeo of your pleasure.

No hay que tener miedo a las palabras. (...). Hay que llamar a las cosas por su nombre, sin miedo. (...) Yo ya no tengo miedo a las palabras, porque ya no le tengo miedo a la verdad. Cuando tu vida es lo que está en juego, no soportas los rodeos.

I plan on growing old much later in life, or maybe not at all.

In all fairness, darlin’, I should probably warn you that this ain’t my first rodeo.

Es muy posible que lo que le voy a decir le parezca una locura. Si es así, me lo dice nomás. Pero no quiero andar con rodeos: creo que estoy enamorado de usted.

This is poetry, but it is not delicate and fragile, a placid ocean beneath a Bible vese on an inspirational poster. This poetry had testicles. It's rougher than a rodeo. Which is why the cliffs are crowded with spectators

You're gonna have to hold on tight, because this rodeo is just getting started.

To be content, horse people need only a horse, or, lacking that, someone else who loves horses with whom they can talk. It was always that way with my grandfather. He took me places just so we could see horses, be near them. We went to the circus and the rodeo at Madison Square Garden. We watched parades down Fifth Avenue. Finding a horse, real or imagined, was like finding a dab of magic potion that enlivened us both. Sometimes I'd tell my grandfather about all the horses in my eleborate dreams. He'd lean over, smile, and assure me that, one day, I'd have one for real. And if my grandfather, my Opa, told me something was going to come true, it always did.

I didn’t really know who I was, but improv had taught me that I could be anyone. I didn’t have to wait to be cast—I could give myself the part. I could be an old man or a teenage babysitter or a rodeo clown. In three short years Chicago had taught me that I could decide who I was. My only job was to surround myself with people who respected and supported that choice. Being foolish was the smartest thing to do.

...What time are you seeing her?' 'How do you know it's a woman?' 'This isn't my first rodeo 'What do you mean?' 'You look like you got hit by a bus, and you dusted yourself off, and did it again for the hell of it. You look like you're wondering when the next time you can get hit by that bus is.

For although Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire were about to experience events that would be both exciting and memorable, they would not be exciting and memorable like having your fortune told or going to a rodeo. Their adventure would be exciting and memorable like being chased by a werewolf through a field of thorny bushes at midnight with nobody around to help you.

He was the most perfectly formed man she'd ever imagined. He was movie stars, men in underwear commercials, guys at the gym, the construction worker in the red T-shirt who'd whistled at her but she'd pretended she hadn't heard; he was the men in three-piece suits whose brains were as sexy as their bodies; he was lazy, indolent seventeen-year-old boys whose muscles bulged out of their clothes, rodeo stars, and those smooth-cheeked, eyeglassed men who held their children tenderly. He was all of them.

It's hard to keep your head when the ground's moving 'neath your feet

This ain't my first rodeo!". ~R. Alan Woods [1999]

I don't get as much fan mail as an actor or singer would, but when I get a letter 99% of the time it's pointing out something that really had an impact. Like after 'My Own Private Rodeo' all these people wrote to me and said Dale's dad inspired them to come out. And this was when it was still illegal to be gay in Texas and a few other states. Another one that really stuck with me was this girl who survived Columbine. See, "Wings of the Dope," the episode where Luanne's boyfriend comes back as an angel, aired two weeks after the shooting. About a month after that, I got a letter from a girl who was there and hid somewhere in the school when it was all going on. She said the first thing she was gonna do if she survived was tell a friend of hers she was in love with him. She never did. He ended up being one of the kids responsible for it. So you can imagine how - you know, to her, it felt wrong to grieve almost, and she bottled it up. But she saw that episode and Buckley walking away at the end and something just let her finally break down and greive and miss the guy. I remember she quoted Luanne - 'I wonder if he's guardianing some other girl,' or something along that line, because she never had the guts to tell the kid. That really gets to people at Comic Con.

nothing exciting ever happens, so you stop thinking it's going to. and then something does happen, and you miss it. completely.

Zach glanced out the window to what had to be the quietest town he’d ever been in. “Big gang problem around here? Lots of cow jacking?” “We have all sorts pass through our little town, thank you very much. Bikers. Cowboys. The always dangerous rodeo clowns.” “Rodeo clowns?” “Don’t ask.” Zach shrugged. “I don’t want to know.” “Any other condescending questions about my town?” “Oh, I’m not being condescending. I’m very interested in your tiny little town, with its tiny little people. I bet you guys even have a movie theater.” Sara barked out a laugh. “You certainly are a charmer.

I had never been to a rodeo before. I had no idea how crazy white people could be. Considering I had been abandoned by a white, crack addict mother, I should have known.

...heaven wouldn’t be like this earth, this tormented earth ruled by evil forces that tossed humanity to and fro like a slow clown in a two-bit rodeo.

I make you nervous,” he said. She frowned. “Of course you don’t.” He clearly did, and that, perversely, made him feel.. relaxed...

I'd purchased it before my trip to the gay rodeo with a bunch of friends many moons ago. Many horses had been saved that weekend as many cowboys had been ridden." ...

The horse is a mirror to your soul...and sometimes you might not like what you see in the mirror. ~Buck Brannaman

the full California workup: shopping on Rodeo Drive, a ridiculously overpriced lunch at the Ivy, an afternoon at the beach, and dinner at a quaint outdoor bistro in Santa Monica.

But the moon was so large and clear through the uncurtained window that it made me think instead of a story my mother had told me, about driving to horse shows with her mother and father in the back seat of their old Buick when she was little. “It was a lot of travelling—ten hours sometimes through hard country. Ferris wheels, rodeo rings with sawdust, everything smelled like popcorn and horse manure. One night we were in San Antonio, and I was having a bit of a melt-down—wanting my own room, you know, my dog, my own bed—and Daddy lifted me up on the fairgrounds and told me to look at the moon. ‘When you feel homesick,’ he said, ‘just look up. Because the moon is the same wherever you go.’ So after he died, and I had to go to Aunt Bess—I mean, even now, in the city, when I see a full moon, it’s like he’s telling me not to look back or feel sad about things, that home is wherever I am.” She kissed me on the nose. “Or where you are, puppy. The center of my earth is you.

Lo que nunca jamás pudimos medir fue nuestro amor, porque era infinito. Era, si, como cuando Palinuro le preguntaba al abuelo cuánto lo quería. - Mucho, muchísimo le contestaba el abuelo Francisco. - Pero ¿cuánto, cuánto abuelo? ¿De aquí a la esquina? - Más, mucho más. - ¿De aquí al Parque del Ajusco? - Más, muchísimo mas: de aquí al cielo de ida y de regreso, yéndose por el camino mas largo de todos y regresando por un camino todavía más largo. Y eso después de dar varios rodeos, de perderse a propósito, de tomar un café con leche en Plutón, de recorrer los anillos de Saturno en patín del diablo y de dormir veinte años como Rip Van Winkle, en uno de esos planetas donde las noches duran veintiún años: porque a mi me gusta levantarme temprano, cuando menos un año antes de que amanezca.

And my mama drowned the dumb ones. I hear everything you’re saying. There’s a group of Buffys thinking we’re the bad guys. Ain’t my first rodeo, pup. It’s been happening so long, they were called Helsings long before your daddy was a gleam in your granddaddy’s eyes. Thank you, Hollywood and Stoker for that. Not like being undead didn’t suck before. They just made it worse for us by cluing the rest of the world in that we exist. Now every goth with a thirst for immortality is cruising for us, begging us to bite them, and turn them. Did I ever tell you about that time when–” – Sundown “Sundown! I–” – Andy “You need to check that tone, boy. Remember, I used to kill people for a living, and I ain’t been up long enough to have much tolerance right about now. Knock it down a notch before I forget that I’m supposed to actually like you.” – Sundown

Pero ni los caminos ni los rodeos importan si al fin ha de surgir a la luz la verdadera necesidad del alma, adormecida y engañada durante tanto tiempo.

It’s possible that heaven’s a rodeo, too, but not likely,

this ain't the 4-H rodeo at the Pocahontas County Fair.... this is horse racing

Yo soy toro en mi rodeo Y torazo en rodeo ajeno; Siempre me tuve por güeno Y si me quieren probar, Salgan otros a cantar Y veremos quién es menos.

Don't worry about me, Grace. I'm a big boy and this ain't my first rodeo.

Never a horse that can’t be rode and never a rider that can’t be throwed. (I’ll pass this off as my own, but I really stole it from my father, a cowboy and rodeo rider in his younger years.)

pero, en fin, hay que tener paciencia, dar tiempo al tiempo, debíamos haber aprendido ya, y de una vez para siempre, que el destino tiene que dar muchos rodeos para llegar a cualquier parte,

...What time are you seeing her?' 'How do you know it's a woman?' 'This isn't my first rodeo' 'What do you mean?' 'You look like you got hit by a bus, and you dusted yourself off, and did it again for the hell of it. You look like you're wondering when the next time you can get hit by that bus is.

Marriage Rule Number One: She is you confidante. Confide in each other before all others, without, exception. Marriage Rule Number Two: Don't be the tough guy with her. She's had enough of that in her life with the way her brothers raised her. Marriage Rule Number Three: Don't withhold your emotions from her. I'm not talking about affections. Because emotions and affections are totally different things.

Was Tammy being selfish in asking Lester to give up music, or was Lester being selfish in picking music over Tammy? Was Rodeo being selfish in not wanting to take me back ... or was I being selfish in making him go back? Out of nowhere, tears came stinging into my eyes. I just wanted everyone to be happy. It's hard, though, when everyone carries around a heart inside them that is so loud and so strong and so easily broken.

Comprende que no se llega al blanco apuntando, sino descuidadamente, mediante oscilaciones y rodeos, casi por casualidad. Ve con claridad que todo conducía a ese momento. Incluso lo que parecía no conducir a ninguna parte.

They fight because there's more between them than they understand at their age.

I can't believe you thought I'd ever let you go.

Sometimes the world begins To set you up on your feet again It wipes the tears from your eyes How will you ever know The way that circumstances go Always going to hit you by surprise I know my past You were there In everything I've done You are the one

You’re so busy running around being a showboat rodeo boy that you don’t even realize what you’ve got. You think we all pick on you for riding bulls because we’re just being dicks? It’s because we love you. You don’t remember when mom died. But I do. I was there. I watched our dad hold her while she bled out. Suddenly, at eight, I was wrangling you and Beau because dad was a shell of himself, focused on taking care of Violet. And now I’m a single dad. I watch Luke grow every day and dread the day I can’t be the one to keep him safe.” I bite my inner cheek. I know Cade is serious right now because I don’t think I can remember him ever telling me that he loves me. “When you have a kid, everyone warns you about the sleepless nights. The explosive diaper changes. How they grow so fast that you hemorrhage money on clothing them. What they don’t tell you is that you’ll never spend another day of your life without worrying about another person. You’ll never completely relax again because that person you created will always, always be on your mind. You’ll wonder where they are, what they’re doing, and if they’re okay.

See him now, his face lit up with delight at the parade advancing on every side, of cart and carriage, delivery truck and spacious brougham, of ladies in their colorful crinoline and dandies dandier than the foppish fop astride boneshaker bicycles weaving between the vendors’ carts as expertly as rodeo barrel racers. Sunset was still almost two hours hence, but the buildings on the western side cast long engulfing shadows, between which the granite pavement glowed honey gold in smoky shafts of slanting light, the light painting the facades along the eastern side the same Hyblaean hue.

Emmett wasn’t one for circuses. He wasn’t one for magic shows or rodeos. He hadn’t even liked going to the football games at his high school, which were attended by nearly everyone in town. He’d simply never taken to the idea of sitting in a crowd to watch someone do something more interesting than what you were doing yourself.

Growing up, I figured God must really love farmers. Just look at how often sowing and reaping are mentioned in the Bible! Over and over again the Good Book references barns overflowing, bringing in the harvest, and casting seed on fertile ground. It does take incredible faith to be in a profession where so much is out of your control.

Yo podría repetir «Haz a los demás lo que quieres que te hagan a ti» hasta que me salgan canas verdes, pero no podré realmente llevarlo a cabo hasta que ame a mi prójimo como a mí mismo. Y no puedo aprender a amar a mi prójimo como a mí mismo hasta que no aprenda a amar a Dios. Y no puedo aprender a amar a Dios salvo aprendiendo a obedecerle. Y así, como ya os lo advertí, llegamos a algo más interior… de los asuntos sociales a los asuntos religiosos. Porque el rodeo más largo es el camino más corto a casa.

Hooting and hollering, the crowd reliably responded as if that were the height of humor, while Herman slapped me on the back and nearly fell off his gunnysack seat guffawing and I laughed as hard as if I hadn’t heard that mossy joke at every rodeo I had ever been to. Life can tickle you in the ribs surprisingly when it’s not digging its thumb in.

Okay, look,” I explained, pointing up at the front of the bus. “Look at Rodeo up there. There’s plenty of reasons anyone might love him if they could get past that greasy doormat he calls hair: He’s kind to everyone, he helps strangers, he’s a gold-medal listener. That’s all great stuff, right? But that’s different than why I love him.” Lester snorted. “Then why do you love him?” I thought for a moment. “I love Rodeo because if tomorrow I spit in his face and threw all his favorite books out the window and called him all the worst words I could think of, he wouldn’t love me one little bit less.” The bus rocked and swayed underneath us. I kept my eyes on Rodeo, on the back of his shaggy head bobbing to the music. “I love Rodeo because on the worst day of my life he held me and held me and held me and held me and didn’t let me go.” I tried to clear my throat but kinda failed,

this town has no soul. and nobody yields to your love. nobody yields, period.

Because, kitten, you kiss and claw when you're afraid.

I don't always argue with you.

Sweet wife of mine.

I needed to touch you.

I love the contented sigh you make whenever I touch you.

I like who I am when I'm with you, Kyle. I like who we are together.

I'll be waiting for you. As long as it takes, Celia. I love you.

One night turned out to be a lifetime.

You don't always have to act so tough, you know.

To enjoy rodeo properly, you gotta be close enough to see the snot fly.

So dark matter is our frenemy. We have no clue what it is. It’s kind of annoying. But we desperately need it in our calculations to arrive at an accurate description of the universe. Scientists are generally uncomfortable whenever we must base our calculations on concepts we don’t understand, but we’ll do it if we have to. And dark matter is not our first rodeo.

Now I was pretty good at playing Rodeo. I'd been doing it for years. But he was a tricky bird to play. You could say that learning to play Rodeo was like learning to play a guitar, if the guitar had thirteen strings instead of six and three of them were out of tune and two of them were yarn and one of them was wired to an electric fence. He's a handful, is what I'm saying.

Tucker took off his cowboy hat and laid it on top of the dresser and then crossed the room to close the curtains. The big question of the night was answered - he did take off his hat for sex.

Fuck hope and all the tiny little towns, one-horse towns, the one-stoplight towns, three-bars country-music jukebox-magic parquet-towns, pressure-cooker pot-roast frozen-peas bad-coffee married-heterosexual towns, crying-kids-in-the-Oldsmobile-beat-your-kid-in the-Thriftway-aisles towns, one-bank one-service-station Greyhound-Bus-stop-at-the-Pepsi-Cafe towns, two-television towns, Miracle Mile towns, Viv's Double Wide Beauty Salon towns, schizophrenic-mother towns, buy-yourself-a-handgun towns, sister-suicide towns, only-Injun's-a-dead-Injun towns, Catholic-Protestant-Mormon-Baptist religious-right five-churches Republican-trickle-down-to-poverty family-values sexual-abuse pro-life creation-theory NRA towns, nervous-mother rodeo-clown-father those little-town-blues towns.

I was disappointed when she suddenly looked away, bashful. It surprised me. Madison occurred to me as so cool and confident. This was her private space though, likely the place she was most herself, no facade, no way she had to be, just a girl with her horses. This was not the kind of place or girl that rodeo boys got to be in or near. Yet here I was, standing toe-to-toe with the goddess in her most private of cowgirl places.

¿Por qué no nos tratamos unos a otros como hermanos? ¿Por qué hasta el hombre más bueno disimula y calla en presencia de otro? ¿Por qué no decir sin rodeos lo que tiene uno en el corazón, inmediatamente, cuando sabe uno que su palabra no se la llevará el viento? ¿Por qué parecer más adusto de lo que uno es en realidad? Es como si cada cual temiera violentar los propios sentimientos si los expresa libremente. —Noches blancas, Dostoievski—

I’m not here for a man,” Trisha mumbled, her mood turning sour. “Heard that too and you’re wrong.” Cindy huffed behind her. “I bet my new Gucci purse you’ll be riding a cowboy and saving a horse before this trip is over.

The Quincy rodeo was a standing tradition, much like Christmas or Thanksgiving. It was one of the few events we always made sure to attend together, even if that meant closing shop. Except that evening, surrounded by my family, a piece was missing. I hadn’t realized until late in the evening, when I’d glanced across the arena and found Winn at the fence, that the missing piece was her. Another shift. She belonged by my side, not standing alone.

It was becoming more and more evident that Salem was a town that celebrated individuality, a real live-and-let-live kind of place. Melody felt a gut punch of regret. Her old nose would have fit in here. "Look!" She pointed at the multicolored car whizzing by. Its black door were from a Mercedes coupe, the white hood from a BMW; the silver trunk was Jaguar, the red convertible top was Lexus, the whitewall tires were Bentley, the sound system was Bose, and the music was classical. A hood ornament from each model dangled from the rear view mirror. Its license plate appropriately read MUTT. "That car looks like a moving Benton ad." "Or a pileup on Rodeo drive." Candace snapped a picture with her iPhone and e-mailed to her friends back home. They responded instantly with a shot of what they were doing. It must have involved the mall because Candace picked up her pace and began asking anyone under the age of fifty where the cool people hung out.

As you are surely aware, our planet is turning on its axis around and around in space. It turns slowly, however, making one complete rotation only every twenty-four hours; and that's a good thing -- isn't it? -- because if our world turned as fast as Gracie's room appeared to be turning, the sun would be either rising or setting every fifteen minutes, astronomers would be as woozy as rodeo clowns, and it'd be nearly impossible to keep our meatballs from rolling out of our spaghetti.

Soy de ese tipo de personas que prefieren caminar a esperar el autobús. De ese tipo de personas que prefieren dar un rodeo a aguantar un atasco. De ese tipo de personas que asumen que cualquier problema está ahí para que yo lo resuelva. Soy incapaz de hacer cola, prefiero renunciar a cualquier cosa si tengo que hacer cola, y no acepto un no por respuesta. ¿Qué es «no»? O bien que has hecho la pregunta equivocada, o bien que has preguntado a la persona equivocada. Encuentra un modo de obtener el «sí

When Tucker glanced in Becca's direction and saw her watching, he smiled and winked. That one move, just a wink, made her knees go weak. She swallowed hard and knew with complete certainty, she was going to do it - she was going to spend the night with him.

El beso la deslumbró. Fue como llegar a casa, como nacer o encontrar de repente la mitad de si misma que creía perdida. Los labios de Chaol eran cálidos y suaves... aún indecisos. Al cabo de un momento, él se apartó lo justo para mirarla a los ojos. Celaena temblaba, ansiosa por acariciarle toda la piel al mismo timepo, deseosa de que él le palpara el cuerpo entero. Chaol iba a renunciar a todo por ella. Le rodeo el cuello con los brazoz y buscó su boca. El resto del mundo se esfumó cuando se besaron por segunda vez.

His eyes were that curious shade of hazel that made her think of sunshine and toffee, caramel and whiskey, sweetness and sin all at once, and they were fixed on her with so much heat. So much intent. And she knew he was right. This was her moment, here and now....

His eyes are cold and restless His wounds have almost healed And she'd give half of Texas Just to change the way he feels She knows his love's in Tulsa And she knows he's gonna go Well it ain't no woman flesh and blood It's that damned old rodeo Well it's bulls and blood It's dust and mud It's the roar of a Sunday crowd It's the white in his knuckles The gold in the buckle He'll win the next go 'round It's boots and chaps It's cowboy hats It's spurs and latigo It's the ropes and the reins And the joy and the pain And they call the thing rodeo She does her best to hold him When his love comes to call But his need for it controls him And her back's against the wall And it's So long girl I'll see you When it's time for him to go You know the woman wants her cowboy Like he wants his rodeo

I understand that it’s disheartening to pour effort and money into a work of art and find that others do not value it with the same intensity. I’ve been to this rodeo more than a few times, and yes, it’s painful and hard on the soul. It is also the sort of thing that grown-ups do every day. Anyone deluded enough to think they are owed monetary success because they bled for their art is in for some hard, hard knocks and buckets full of tears. There will be many cries of “unfair” and much jealousy and hatred. And to be fair, all authors go through this every time they watch their books ride the waves of bestseller charts and the ego torture chamber known as Goodreads reviews. Even the most well-adjusted of us watch that horrible piece of shit book beat our baby to pieces and gnash our teeth and shout at our monitors demanding to know what brain-donors are shopping on amazon.com these days. But holy Smart Bitch on a cracker, Batman, to write a post about how stupid readers are and worse to actually put it out there on the internet is so beyond the pale there’s a special hell for that kind of idiocy. Let me repeat: authors exist at the pleasure of readers. Without the people who buy and read my books, I am just another dizzy broad writing shit down. Readers aren’t just an author’s audience; they are her lifeblood. --

All that adrenaline running through him with no outlet - God, what would sex be like with a man who literally vibrated with energy the way he was now? Explosive. Unforgettable. The exact opposite of how sex with Jerry had been. Becca realized that, against all common sense, she was dying to find out.

En un estado de oscurecimiento como la tristeza, la enfermedad, la contricción, nos es grato ver que aun podemos ser luminosos para los demás y que estos perciben en nosotros una esfera luminosa producida de la misma manera que la de la luna. Por este rodeo participamos de nuestra propia facultad de iluminar.

Becca had gone through many, many years of schooling in her life. She'd spent more hours in libraries than she could begin to calculate. Yet this was the first time she'd ever made out in one. As he claimed her mouth for the second time against the volumes of Chaucer, she realized all she'd missed out on in the past.

Until Perry was five, the team of “Tex & Flo” continued to work the rodeo circuit. As a way of life, it wasn’t “any gallon of ice cream,” Perry once recalled: “Six of us riding in an old truck, sleeping in it, too, sometimes, living off mush and Hershey kisses and condensed milk. Hawks Brand condensed milk it was called, which is what weakened my kidneys—the sugar content—which is why I was always wetting the bed.” Yet it was not an unhappy existence, especially for a little boy proud of his parents, admiring of their showmanship and courage—a happier life, certainly, than what replaced it. For Tex and Flo, both forced by ailments to retire from their occupation, settled near Reno, Nevada.

When a man that attractive licks his lips, a girl's got to look. And imagine...

Getting sweaty with a woman after some good sex was one thing, but he'd rather not start out that way.

so we were able to strip down and wipe the goo off ourselves

Cowboy Rodeo was a very simple man. He liked his life simple. He liked his ranch full of animals, he liked the breeze across the plains, and he liked when the sun rose and set. He liked strong, cold whiskey and the stars at night. Cowboy Rodeo realized at that moment he also really, really liked corsets and black pencil skirts that showed off the curve of the hip.

I'm of the opinion that many Christians are in deep denial about the reality of there being 'real' Evil in this world. Evil that cannot be reasoned with; is reprobate, incorrigible, determined, un-appeasable, violent, murderous, and unrelenting. I find this denial shocking in that the Bible clearly shows that in the end this battle is all about Good vs. Evil. This is a very real and present danger to the leaders and people of Israel. They know the truth and are not in any denial about it!!! It's harsh, yes! However, it is Real and a danger to those in Israel. This is not my first rodeo!!! Combat brings me no joy!!! But, God has His holy warriors who risk their lives so others can have the luxury to live in denial!!! Israeli's have no such luxury!!!

Too soon for dinner with the parents?" I teased. "You really didn't have to feel obligated to stay, but Lil does cook some amazing Indian food." Gabriel just kissed the back of my hand and smiled slyly. "What is it you Westerners say? This isn't my first rodeo, darling!" He mocked tipping a hat. "Well that may be true, but this is a very different kind of bull," I retorted, almost jealous. "And how many rodeos exactly have you been to, sir?

He pulled her closer and she felt the bulge in his jeans. "I never knew books were so sexy." "You got turned on today by a bologna sandwich, too." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I don't think it's the books." "You're right. Maybe it's not the books or the bologna." He leaned lower. "Maybe it's not." She rose up on her tiptoes, closer to his tempting mouth. He groaned and closed the small distance between them, backing her up against the shelves as his lips covered hers.

El erotómano se diferencia del pornógrafo por ser indirecto y por dar rodeos. Ama las distancias escénicas. Se conforma con alusiones, en lugar de exponer directamente el tema. El actor erótico no es un expositor pornográfico. La erótica es alusiva y no directamente afectante. En eso se diferencia de la pornografía. El modo temporal de lo pornográfico es directo y sin ambages. Demora, ralentización y distracción son las modalidades temporales de lo erótico. Lo deíctico, mostrar de forma directa el asunto, es pornográfico. La pornografía evita rodeos. Va directamente al asunto. Por el contrario, lo que resulta erótico son los signos, que circulan sin revelar. Lo que resultaría pornográfico sería el teatro de la revelación. Eróticos son los secretos, que, sobre todo, son indesvelables. En eso se diferencian de las informaciones ocultas y retenidas, que podrían desvelarse. Pornográfico resulta, justamente, un desvelamiento progresivo que llega hasta la verdad o la transparencia.

Bianca arrugó el entrecejo. -Parecen... -Dedos de pies - se adelantó Grover Bianca asintió. -Pero colosales. Zoë y Thalia se miraron, nerviosas. -Daremos un rodeo - dijo Thalia-. A buena distancia. -Pero la carretera está allí mimo -protesté-. Es más fácil trepar por ahí. "¡Tong!" Thalia blandió su lanza, Zoë sacó el arco. Pero sólo era Grover. Había lanzado un trozo de metal hacia aquellos dedos gigantescos y había acertado a uno. Por la manera de resonar, las columnas parecían huecas. -¿Por qué has hecho eso? -lo riño Zoë- Grover la miró, avergonzado. -No sé. No me gustan los pies postizos.

Now, how are you getting back to the motel?” He looked like he was going to argue some more, shifting slowly in the gurney to a more upright position but something pulled him up short and he winced. “I’ll catch a cab.” “And is there someone who can keep an eye on you?” He’d been pretty wiped out from the morphine. She’d be more comfortable discharging him if she was doing it to someone’s care. “Are you kidding? The rodeo’s over. The motel will be full of yahooing bull riders.” “I mean someone who’ll actually look in on you, not be drunk off their ass while you throw up in your sleep and choke on your own vomit.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I bet you’re fun at parties.” Parties? Ha! She should be so lucky. “I’m a real treat.

All A players have six common denominators. They have a scoreboard that tells them if they are winning or losing and what needs to be done to change their performance. They will not play if they can’t see the scoreboard. They have a high internal, emotional need to succeed. They do not need to be externally motivated or begged to do their job. They want to succeed because it is who they are . . . winners. People often ask me how I motivate my employees. My response is, “I hire them.” Motivation is for amateurs. Pros never need motivating. (Inspiration is another story.) Instead of trying to design a pep talk to motivate your people, why not create a challenge for them? A players love being tested and challenged. They love to be measured and held accountable for their results. Like the straight-A classmate in your high school geometry class, an A player can hardly wait for report card day. C players dread report card day because they are reminded of how average or deficient they are. To an A player, a report card with a B or a C is devastating and a call for renewed commitment and remedial actions. They have the technical chops to do the job. This is not their first rodeo. They have been there, done that, and they are technically very good at what they do. They are humble enough to ask for coaching. The three most important questions an employee can ask are: What else can I do? Where can I get better? What do I need to do or learn so that I continue to grow? If you have someone on your team asking all three of these questions, you have an A player in the making. If you agree these three questions would fundamentally change the game for your team, why not enroll them in asking these questions? They see opportunities. C players see only problems. Every situation is asking a very simple question: Do you want me to be a problem or an opportunity? Your choice. You know the job has outgrown the person when all you hear are problems. The cost of a bad employee is never the salary. My rules for hiring and retaining A players are: Interview rigorously. (Who by Geoff Smart is a spectacular resource on this subject.) Compensate generously. Onboard effectively. Measure consistently. Coach continuously.

Think you can last eight seconds?” Joss was one hundred percent, absolutely, positively certain that she would not. She was even more certain that she’d break something. Unfortunately, nerves made her mouthy. “Eight seconds, huh? I heard you rodeo guys had a short fuse. We have pills for that now you know?” He laughed and his lips were suddenly close to her ear again. “I can go longer than eight seconds as you well know. But even if that were true, I promise you, doc, it’d be the best eight seconds of your life.” Great. Now all she was going to think about while a piece of machinery spun and bucked beneath her was riding Troy in exactly the same way. Was it possible to have a mechanical-bull-induced orgasm? That would be seriously embarrassing. Certainly more than the good folk of Plainview would have expected from an innocent night out at the Bull Bar. There were children watching for the love of Mike.

In case you haven't noticed,rodeos are a serious business.Careless cowboys tend to break bones,or even their skulls,as hard as that may be to believe." She stared down at the hand holding her wrist. Despite his smile,she could feel the strength in his grip. If he wanted to,he could no doubt break her bone with a single snap. But she wasn't concerned with his strength,only with the heat his touch was generating. She felt the tingle of warmth all the way up her arm.It alarmed her more than she cared to admit. "My job is to minimize damage to anyone who is actually hurt." "I'm grateful." He sat up so his laughing blue eyes were even with hers. If possible,his were even bluer than the perfect Montana sky above them. "What do you think? Any damage from that fall?" Her instinct was to move back,but his fingers were still around her wrist,holding her close. "I'm beginning to wonder if you were actually tossed from that bull or deliberately fell." "I'd have to be a little bit crazy to deliberately fell." "I'd have to be a little bit crazy to deliberately jump from the back of a raging bull just to get your attention, wouldn't I?" "Yeah." She felt the pull of that magnetic smile that had so many of the local females lusting after Wyatt McCord. Now she knew why he'd gained such a reputation in such a short time. "I'm beginning to think maybe you are. In fact,more than a little.A whole lot crazy." "I figured it was the best possible way to get you to actually talk to me. You couldn't ignore me as long as there was even the slightest chance that I might be hurt." There was enough romance in her nature to feel flattered that he'd go to so much trouble to arrange to meet her. At least,she thought,it was original. And just dangerous enough to appeal to a certain wild-and-free spirit that dominated her own life. Then her practical side kicked in, and she felt an irrational sense of annoyance that he'd wasted so much of her time and energy on his weird idea of a joke. "Oh,brother." She scrambled to her feet and dusted off her backside. "Want me to do that for you?" She paused and shot him a look guaranteed to freeze most men. He merely kept that charming smile in place. "Mind if we start over?" He held out his hand. "Wyatt McCord." "I know who you are." "Okay.I'll handle both introductions. Nice to meet you,Marilee Trainor. Now that we have that out of the way,when do you get off work?" "Not until the last bull rider has finished." "Want to grab a bite to eat? When the last rider is done,of course." "Sorry.I'll be heading home." "Why,thanks for the invitation.I'd be happy to join you.We could take along some pizza from one of the vendors." She looked him up and down. "I go home alone." "Sorry to hear that." There was that grin again,doing strange things to her heart. "You're missing out on a really fun evening." "You have a high opinion of yourself, McCord." He chuckled.Without warning he touched a finger to her lips. "Trust me.I'd do my best to turn that pretty little frown into an even prettier smile." Marilee couldn't believe the feelings that collided along her spine. Splinters of fire and ice had her fighting to keep from shivering despite the broiling sun. Because she didn't trust her voice, she merely turned on her heel and walked away from him. It was harder to do than she'd expected. And though she kept her spine rigid and her head high, she swore she could feel the heat of that gaze burning right through her flesh. It sent one more furnace blast rushing through her system. A system already overheated by her encounter with the bold, brash,irritatingly charming Wyatt McCord.

A sudden yowl from up ahead had them all starting. A small tree smoked on one side, the faint glow of fire darting from a burning patch of dead foliage. The yowl came again. Matt hurried over and peered up the tree to see a calico cat, its green eyes staring down, as if in accusation. "No," Reyna said, stopping beside him. "We are not rescuing the cat." "But the tree -" "- is on fire. I see that. Have you ever owned a cat? If they can go up, they can come down. Guaranteed." Matt eyed the feline. It eyed him back, then yowled, as if to say Well, hurry it up. "It might be too scared to come down," he said. "It's a cat," Reyna said. "They don't get scared - just annoyed, which I'm going to get if you insist on playing hero and rescuing that faker." She scowled at the cat. "Yes, I mean you. Faker." The cat sniffed, then turned to Matt, clearly sensing the softer touch. Owen stepped forward. "If you'll feel better rescuing the cat, Matt, then go ahead. We aren't on a tight schedule." Reyna waved her arms around the smoking street. "Um, Ragnarök?" "And the longer you two bicker ..." "Fine," Reyna said. "I've got this." Before Matt could protest, she walked to the base of the tree, grabbed the lowest branch, and swung up. "Rodeo girl, remember? Also, five years of gymnastics, which my mother thought would make me more graceful and feminine. Her mistake." She shimmied along a branch. "Come on, faker. I'm your designated hero for today." She looked down at Matt. "And if you ever tell anyone I rescued a cat from a tree ..." Before Matt could answer, the cat sprang to the ground. "Arggh!" Reyna said. "You scared him out," Matt said. "He just needed the extra motivation. No, wait. It's a she. Calicos are almost always female." "Are they? Huh." Reyna swung out. The cat sat on the ground below, watching. "See?" Matt said. "She's grateful." "She's gloating. Let's go.