A guy calls a horse rancher and says he’s sending a
friend over to look at a race horse he
wants to buy. The rancher says “how will I
recognize him?” “Easy, he’s a midget
with a speech impediment”
The midget shows up and the rancher asks him if he
is looking for a male or female horse.
“A female horth” So he shows him a prized filly.
“Nith lookin’ horth. Can I thee her eyeth?”
So the rancher picks up the midget and gets him eye
to eye with the horse. Puts him down.
“Nith eyeth, can I thee her earzth?” The rancher
picks up the little fella again and shows
him the horse’s ears. Puts him down. “Hmm, nitrh
earzth. Can I thee her mouf?” The
rancher is getting impatient with having to lift the
midget every time he asks a question, but
he picks him up again and shows him the horse’s
“Hmm, nith mouf, can I thee her twat?”
Totally pissed off at this point, the rancher grabs
him under his arm and jams the midget’s
head as far as he can up the horse’s twat, pulls him
out and slams him on the ground.
The midget gets up, sputtering and coughing and
says, “Perhapth, I should rephrathe that.
Can I thee her wun awound a widdle bit?”