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Billy and the Bull

Female Monologue - two to three minutes

For once, maybe he shoulda listened to me.  Course he didn't and never did.  I'd say, "Billy,  ...Billy's my husband...  Billy," I'd say, " put down that Bud and get you lazy butt out from that T.V."  But he'd just scratch hisself and burp at me.

Or I'd say, "Billy, you gotta sit down when you pee."  But he'd just stand there, half way across the bathroom, waving that little thing toward the bowl hoping to compensate for in acreage what the good Lord had shorted him of in length.

Bill's just like Bully, my registered black Angus bull.  Bully's kind of my pet; That don't matter though; come the Fourth of July barbecue he'll still be on the grill.  Bully don't listen neither.  Trampled right through my red ribbon dwarf white roses.  Well, I grabbed him up short by the halter and told him, "You do that again, I'm going to grill your blue ribbon butt right now."  Next morning, there he was, cud chewing belly deep in my roses; took me a hour to pluck all the thorns out of his misbehaving snout.

So... I put me a John Deer electric fence all round my roses and cranked the juice up high enough to steam the sweat off a horny rabbit.  And I told Billy about it.... course he didn't listen.  Well, two Buds and three commercials into his "movie of the week," he slides off the sofa and stumbles outside to contribute to nature.  He plants his feet, whips it out, and let's go a solid clear stream toward my defenseless white dwarfs.  Course it didn't make past my mighty John Deere.  One good thing come of it, now Billy HAS to sit down to pee.

 
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