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

mouth.

“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?”