Hot Girlz

There are some really Hot Girlz to be found in the world, if you know what I mean. You might see them at the grocery store, striding majestically with head, and everything else held high, proud for all the world to see in their push-up bras and low-cut blouses. Maybe they're slinking through the mall, in tight jeans, strappy sandals, the latest fashion accessories tied and slung on various body parts, makeup perfectly applied with the obligatory tatt peaking out from somewhere. God knows you'll see them at the beach, near the beach, and lounging in the sand, bathing suits barely there, slathered from head to toe in whatever, plugged into a Nano and perusing Cosmopolitan. Yup, there are lots of Hot Girlz out there all right, and most of them have variously a dopey love slave, or a macho gunslinger guy attached to them somehow, or lurking about trying to do and be...something for these ladies.

Those Hot Girlz are not that of which I speak, however. I'm talking about this type of hot girl:

And more...

These are the newest addition to my flock, five 3 month old Border Cheviot ewe lambs, which you will occasionally read me refer to as kittehs, because of their flighty demeanor. They are just as edgy and kewl as any vixen to be found at the Hard Rock on Saturday night, and every bit as wily. More wily in fact...definitely more wyly. They don't need fingernails that shine like justice, and would simply trot off from a dirty martini. No spandex, no Louis Vuitton, no D & B for them. Oh no! They make wool look sexy.

OK, so not everybody will share my view of these hot girls. But those that don't are from group A. The ones who stand in my livingroom and look aghast at the hunting mounts on my walls, the sheep fleece on my couch, the horse manure in the door yard. The ones who ask me where I'm going on vacation, and stand silent, head's tilted with that "huh?" expression when I tell them Porterville.

Group B is all about the sheep. They own a stomach tube, an emasculator, and write "Niiiccce" under my Facebook announcement of the hot girls arrival. They're the ones who immediately understand when I say BFL/Wens x, and they don't mind that ruminant smell on my jeans. Honestly? They like it, and so do I.

So, I picked up 5 Hot Girlz yesterday...I mean hot girls, and they are grand. Right now they're out working, picking their way around the pasture, bulking up with muscle and fat, growing into bred ewes this Fall, ewes and lambs by Spring.

I mean really? Who needs Yves Saint Laurent when you have cloven hooves?