Let’s talk about how I wasted my Thursday trying to “understand horses’ rumps.” Yeah, you read that right. Buckle up.
How This Madness Started
Scrolled past some fancy article titled “Equine Gluteals in Modern Society.” Sounded like pretentious nonsense. So naturally, I decided to test it myself. Grabbed my car keys.
The Meat Market Mission
Drove straight to the butcher shop. Slammed the door shut and marched inside.
- Pointed at the biggest, ugliest piece of red meat hanging in the cold room. “That. Horse rump?”
- Butcher stared like I’d asked for dragon scales. “Uh, no ma’am. That’s beef shoulder.”
- Argued for ten minutes. Finally paid extra to special-order an actual horse rump. Left feeling weirdly victorious.
Three Days of Smelly Science
Picked up the giant, slippery hunk two days later. It smelled like regret wrapped in leather.
- Stuffed it in my trunk. Drove home with windows down.
- Slammed it on the kitchen counter. Took pictures like a crime scene investigator. “Exhibit A, Your Honor.”
- Tried slow-cooking it with herbs. Three hours later, my house smelled like a barn fire. Tasted tough and weirdly sweet. Spit it out.
Real-World Testing (AKA Embarrassing Myself)
Decided this “experiment” needed practical applications.
- Dropped a slice on the patio to see if birds would eat it. Pigeons pecked once and flew off. Even squirrels sniffed and bounced.
- Tried to sit on it like a cushion. Sank into cold squishiness. Stood up with wet pants. Felt like a horror movie extra.
- Offered a piece to my neighbour’s dog. Fido sniffed, gave me a judgmental side-eye, and buried it under a bush.
The Glaringly Obvious Conclusion
After two days of awkward stares and ruined kitchen towels, here’s the deep wisdom I earned:
- Horse rump is absolutely useless in normal human life unless you enjoy smelling like old saddles.
- Butchers hate questions involving the word “equine.”
- Modern society survives perfectly fine without horses’ backsides. Surprise!
So yeah, don’t try this. Unless you want your entire neighbourhood whispering about the “woman with the suspicious trunk meat.” My husband’s still laughing. Save your Thursday.
