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The Power of the Badge


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The Power of a Badge.....

 

dea.jpg

DEA officer stops at a ranch in Texas and talks with an old rancher. He tells the rancher, "I need to inspect your ranch for illegally grown drugs."

The rancher says, "Okay, but please do not go in that field over there," as he points out the location.

 

 

The DEA officer verbally explodes saying, " Mister, I have with me the authority of the Federal Government." Reaching into his rear pants pocket, he removes his badge and proudly displays it to the rancher. "See this here badge? This badge means I am allowed to go wherever I wish, whenever I wish, on any land. No questions asked or answers given. Have I made myself clear, sir? Do you understand? "

 

 

The rancher nods politely, apologizes, and goes about his chores.

 

 

A short time later, the old rancher hears loud screams and sees the DEA officer running for his life chased by the rancher's big Santa Gertrudis bull......

bull.jpg

With every step the bull is gaining ground on the officer, and it seems likely that he'll get gored before he reaches safety. The officer is clearly terrified.

 

The rancher throws down his tools, runs to the fence and yells at the top of his lungs.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

" Your badge. Quick, show him your BADGE ! "

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" Your badge. Quick' date=' show him your BADGE!"

 

[/quote']

 

Reminds me of the old story about the two hunters out in the woods.... suddenly a big grizzly bear sees them and starts running toward them.....one hunter bends over and starts lacing up his tennis shoes...the other hunter say, why bother? You can't outrun that bear. The other hunter says, I don't have to outrun the bear....I just have to outrun you.

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Reminds me of the old story about the two hunters out in the woods.... suddenly a big grizzly bear sees them and starts running toward them.....one hunter bends over and starts lacing up his tennis shoes...the other hunter say' date=' why bother? You can't outrun that bear. The other hunter says, I don't have to outrun the bear....I just have to outrun you.

 

[/quote']

 

Where was the rancher to holler your gun, shoot it. LOL

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A 911 call came in. The hunter was frantic.

 

"You gotta help me! I just accidentally shot my buddy and I think I killed him!"

 

"Okay, sir, calm down, I'll walk you through this. First you need to make sure he's dead."

 

(footsteps, then a loud BANG)

 

"Okay, now what?"

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Two hunters out lookin' for deer....one hunter accidently shoots the other.... he straps him onto the hood of his pickup and heads the 100 miles to the nearest hospital.... pulls up to the emergency entrance, unties his buddy from the fender and hauls him inside..... he's rushed into see a doctor...the guy asks, "Will he be okay, Doc?" The doctor says, "Well he'd have a lot better chance if you hadn't gutted him."

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rob...

 

The way I heard your joke was a bit of a longer tale but... it's a little gentler if you use the term "field dressed" stedda "gutted." It'll also tell you who knows something of hunting. <chortle>

 

BTW, Karen, I take it you hadda set the tale in Texas 'cuz we ain't got many Santa Gertrudis around where we live? <bigger chortle>

 

m

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Texas Rancher

 

A man owned a small ranch near San Antonio. The Texas Dept of Labor claimed he was not paying proper wages to his help and sent an agent out to interview him. “I need a list of your employees and how much you pay them,” demanded the agent.

Well,” replied the farmer, “there’s my farm hand who’s been with me for 3 years. I pay him $200 a week plus free room and board. The cook has been here for 18 months, and I pay her $150 per week plus free room and board. Then there’s the half-wit. He works about 18 hours every day and does about 90% of all the work around here. He makes about $10 per week, pays his own room and board, and I buy him a bottle of bourbon every Saturday night. He also sleeps with my wife occasionally.”

“That’s the guy I want to talk to, the half-wit,” says the agent.

“That would be me,” replied the Rancher.

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rob...

 

The way I heard your joke was a bit of a longer tale but... it's a little gentler if you use the term "field dressed" stedda "gutted." It'll also tell you who knows something of hunting. <chortle>

 

BTW' date=' Karen, I take it you hadda set the tale in Texas 'cuz we ain't got many Santa Gertrudis around where we live? <bigger chortle>

 

m

[/quote']

 

Milo, yeah... field dressed would be the correct term.... And I'm certainly NOT a hunter of any kind.... I eat meat, but I want the animal already dead and his next of kin notified before I become involved.

 

I heard that joke YEARS ago and was trying to recall it in the least amount of verbiage I could get away with.

 

B

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I always liked another one I heard years ago.

 

 

Deer season had just opened, and the Sheriff gets an early phone call from one of the area ranchers.

He learns that there's been an "incident" on opening morning, and his presence is needed quickly.

 

So the Sheriff gets in his truck and drives out to the ranch, and is met by the owner at the gate.

The owner tells him there were some horsemen hunting one area of the ranch, while a city-slicker and

his wife were supposed to be hunting another area - they had each paid for right of access to their areas.

 

Trouble was brewing just up the road near the creek separating the two areas.

 

When the Sheriff arrived quietly, he heard one of the horsemen saying

"Lady, I'm not gonna argue with you! Yes, he's your deer and you can have him!"

 

He then hears a woman's voice angrily demanding that everybody get away from her deer before she shot them.

As he stepped quietly through the brush he saw the woman waving a shotgun wildly.

 

Only then did the entire scene finally make sense.

His heart sank as he saw the poor horseman pleading with the woman - arms raised in surrender.

"Ma'am, just let me get my saddle off him and you can have your deer!"

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rob...

 

The way I heard your joke was a bit of a longer tale but... it's a little gentler if you use the term "field dressed" stedda "gutted." It'll also tell you who knows something of hunting. <chortle>

 

BTW' date=' Karen, I take it you hadda set the tale in Texas 'cuz we ain't got many Santa Gertrudis around where we live? <bigger chortle>

 

m

[/quote']

Milod, I'm ashamed to admit I don't know a Santa Gertrudis from a Charlebois! :-

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Texas Rancher

 

A man owned a small ranch near San Antonio. The Texas Dept of Labor claimed he was not paying proper wages to his help and sent an agent out to interview him. “I need a list of your employees and how much you pay them' date='” demanded the agent.

Well,” replied the farmer, “there’s my farm hand who’s been with me for 3 years. I pay him $200 a week plus free room and board. The cook has been here for 18 months, and I pay her $150 per week plus free room and board. Then there’s the half-wit. He works about 18 hours every day and does about 90% of all the work around here. He makes about $10 per week, pays his own room and board, and I buy him a bottle of bourbon every Saturday night. He also sleeps with my wife occasionally.”

“That’s the guy I want to talk to, the half-wit,” says the agent.

“That would be me,” replied the Rancher.[/quote']

ROFL!!!!!!

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I always liked another one I heard years ago.

 

 

Deer season had just opened' date=' and the Sheriff gets an early phone call from one of the area ranchers.

He learns that there's been an "incident" on opening morning, and his presence is needed quickly.

 

So the Sheriff gets in his truck and drives out to the ranch, and is met by the owner at the gate.

The owner tells him there were some horsemen hunting one area of the ranch, while a city-slicker and

his wife were supposed to be hunting another area - they had each paid for right of access to their areas.

 

Trouble was brewing just up the road near the creek separating the two areas.

 

When the Sheriff arrived quietly, he heard one of the horsemen saying

"Lady, I'm not gonna argue with you! Yes, he's your deer and you can have him!"

 

He then hears a woman's voice angrily demanding that everybody get away from her deer before she shot them.

As he stepped quietly through the brush he saw the woman waving a shotgun wildly.

 

Only then did the entire scene finally make sense.

His heart sank as he saw the poor horseman pleading with the woman - arms raised in surrender.

"Ma'am, just let me get my saddle off him and you can [i']have[/i] your deer!"

[blink] [blink] [biggrin] :-

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A 911 call came in. The hunter was frantic.

 

"You gotta help me! I just accidentally shot my buddy and I think I killed him!"

 

"Okay' date=' sir, calm down, I'll walk you through this. First you need to make sure he's dead."

 

(footsteps, then a loud BANG)

 

"Okay, now what?"

 

 

[/quote']

Another good one! ROFL!

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Karen...

 

Santa Gertrudis is a rather unique breed developed for the Texas sort of climate and heat tolerance, not the winters of the northern plains of our continent, are their strength. <grin>

 

It's not as bad as the joke, but some 35 years ago a deer hunter from the "big city" of Sioux Falls stopped at a mandatory game warden station stop. This is a true story, BTW.

 

He pointed to the produce of his successful hunt and bragged to the game wardens, "Isn't that the biggest rack you've ever seen on a deer?"

 

Well, said one of the wardens, yes and no, because the deer was really an elk.

 

<grin>

 

m

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When my oldest girl was only seven, the two of us were walking across a meadow in Yellowstone to get a better

look at some magnificent elk that had wandered into the clearing. I was explaining to her how they don't see

very well, and with their head down grazing they can still smell and hear pretty good - to detect predators.

 

So we were downwind, and careful not to move fast or abruptly, and I had her in front to me so if the elk looked

our way they would see only my larger figure and not two separate silhouettes - more predators.

 

I explained that we'll get only as close as the elk like, if they notice us we'll stop and be still until they either

ignore us or start to move away. Well, the traffic on the road nearby came to a screeching halt and all sorts of people were scrambling out of their vehicles towards them to take pictures - random and noisy as hell, and upwind.

 

(Heavy sigh.....)

 

Well, looks like we'll get to witness some people doing it all wrong for my girl's benefit......

 

In the nick of time, a lady Park Ranger headed the people off and was asking them to all stay near their cars.

As she walked around the meadow to the side where we were with a few other people - safely back - she walked

up and immediately struck up a friendly conversation with my daughter. After a few pleasantries and comments

about how majestic, but big and powerful the elk are, my daughter wasn't that scared of them.

After all, she was with her Big Bad Dad, so she didn't have to be afraid of ANYTHING.

 

She turned to look at the Ranger, then me, and said "But you could shoot 'em!"

The Ranger looked at me - I had nothing....

 

"I.. uh, well.... NO! No, we don't shoot elk in here honey, this is a National Park and a game preserve........"

In a few seconds my daughter understood the concept, but the Ranger was giving me The Look.

Just like I used to get from her mother.....

 

Anyhow, the Ranger made a great friend out of my daughter, spending the time to go to great lengths about

poaching and taking game from National Parks, how gross and disgusting it was, and how all those men went to

jail for a long, long time, and what a shame it was that people would kill only for a trophy and leave the animal

laying in the park to waste away, and how the best and biggest elk were then taken from the gene pool.......

 

Thank you Miss Ranger Lady, for setting the tone for every animal conversation I'll have with my daughter

for the next month. Let's just say that the rest of the trip was spent talking about what animals we could and

could not shoot.

I have no idea where that even came from, the only hunting she was ever around at all was pheasants.

 

Kids...

 

[biggrin]

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When I was a lad, most cattle in the area were Angus, Hereford or a mix. One guy in the next county had Polled Shorthorns. At a 4-H meeting one of the members said he was going to give his annual talk on Maine Anjou. We didn't know if you tuned it up, went to the doctor for it or if it was in Europe.... :-

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