Notice! Important Rodeo News Announcement

Posted on February 8, 2016 by Dwight Lutsey

This post has been moved to OpenChutes.com. All future postings of Powwows, Indian Relay Races, Rodeos and Rendezvous will be posted there from now on exclusively. So if you’re looking for new images and posts for all those events attended this year, plus all the old posts posted on BigShotsNow.com check out OpenChutes.com. See you there!

For Immediate Release:

No NDA; Full Dispersement All TV, Radio and Print

New Breed of Rodeo Bull available immediately

The Institute announced today the release of a new breed of bull to be used in all general rodeos both public and private. A member of the Sanga species of cattle, the Ankole-Watusi or Ankole Longhorn is a 1200-1600 lb. animal with rather remarkable horns that grow to 8′ in width and have been measured at 12′ across from tip to tip in the truly larger specimens.

We see them as particularly interesting in events such as Steer roping, Steer Wrestling, Bull riding, kiddie rodeos etc. We do not recommend them for petting zoos, carnivals or arcades that feature cows doing tricks, or as a replacement for oxen, carabao, or other domesticated breeds of working cattle. Due to their unpredictable tendencies towards mayhem and property damage we do not sell, rent or lend them to private citizens or countries hostile to the interests of the U.S.

They are trail-able in open top trailers with four or more axles. They do not respond well to cattle prods but can be managed with portable Arc welders set on high. Tig welders work best rather than the spool fed Mig welder as you can more easily drop the Tig welder assembly and run away when necessary, where as many Cowhands have become tangled in the wire feeder spool of the Tig welder and been tripped up letting the irritated bull “Catch” them and stomp off their legs.

Imagine the excitement of watching the “Big Loop” ropers as they spin the big hoop to catch one of these fast-moving bullet train bulls. Or the size of the biceps, not to mention the Juevos, on those heavy duty Steer wrestlers as they try to bring down one of these bad boys. Bull riders will be “backing up” when they draw one of these huge fellows. Think Mike Tyson when they draw one of these guys and hopefully getting an ear bit off will be the least of their problems. They’ll probably need an ear bit off just to get on one of these. These are not just your typical African cows. As you may have already imagined, being a product of The Institute, we have genetically modified these bulls to behave just a little more aggressively and be a tad more murderous and quicker to become miffed at any one who tries to ride them.

These new “Rodeo Ready™ bulls are only available from The Institute and can be rented by the hour, day or season (with acceptable credit) from our Rodeo-Ready™ Supply store here at The Institute’s Rodeo Training™ and Physical Therapy department. Note: Due to liability issues we can not rent out more that 150 bulls to any one customer. Please contact Clarence “one Eye” McThompson in our prosthetics and Ass-Sling department for more details.

End of Press Release. All news outlets run as many times as possible. See below for further information on these great new Rodeo Bulls.

These animals were usually owned by African Royalty and were called the “Cattle of Kings” and the Inyambo, “the cows with long, long horns.” As this breed is also known for its ferocious, aggressive tendencies and a unabiding hatred of humans, and a desire and an ability to mash much of the royalty that owned them to a thin paste under their hooves, plus their inability to get along generally, they are considered extinct in many parts of Africa today. This bull is an adaptation of a much older African species of bovine mutilators used by many tribes to decimate, or at least wipe out, their enemies by sending elven or twelve of them into their neighbors Enkang (village) to wreak havoc on their Bombas (homes) by first leveling the village then eating the materials used to build their huts. Thereby leaving their enemies homeless, penniless and dung ridden and easy to subdue.

This close up of bull no. 8811 or “Little Bill” as he’s known around the bull pen, shows one of the new characteristics of our genetic meddling with their DNA. Look closely at the rings circling their horns and you will see that there are darker and lighter rings circling them. Each of those rings are a permanent encoded marker, or record, of their victories in the arena. The darker rings signify the number of cowboys or anyone else goofy enough to get too close to them that indicates the contest resulted in a successful fatality. The lighter rings show that a permanent maiming took place rather than a fatality. This is a handy way to easily see the bulls level of meanness which is helpful if you want to bail when you’ve seen you’ve drawn one of these to ride. Given the patented lighter/darker formula of indicating the outcome of individual contests the completely dark areas at the ends of Little Bills horns show that he was one of the original dozen bulls sent into a village and the fatalities were too high to count. This resulted in the blackout at the end of his horns. Don’t mess with Little Bill if you don’t have to.

Let us know if we can help you with your stock needs at any of your official, private, or backyard rodeos and we’ll be happy to send you one sample bull to try out. If you think he meets your needs we’ll be glad to work out a rental program to suit your requirements. Rodeo season is just around the corner and as the fatality record goes up these bulls will be hard to find. Reserve your stock now while we’re making deals. Otherwise expect to pay top dollar when all your regular bulls wimp out during the height of the season. Please direct all correspondence to The Director at the Institute.

Horse Spinning

Posted on December 20, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

We don’t normally repost images here on BigShotsNow but some information that has surfaced and been made public require our clarifying facts regarding this picture. This shot was originally posted on 2015-09-02 and referred to events taking place at the Crow Fair rodeo. http://www.bigshotsnow.com/crow-fair-2015-rodeo/

Originally there was a comment attached to this photo referring to an unusual way to dismount a bucking horse when one tired of riding it. We have to tender an apology as we were mistaken in providing that information. This is not what is happening at all.

What is happening in the image is not a regular or common shot of a cowboy falling off his horse, but is in fact a horse and rider participating in one of the newest and most spectacular events on the rodeo circuit. That event is Horse Spinning. Many of you who attend rodeo events regularly, have known about this event for sometime but have been remiss in sharing this information, (I’m looking at you, Eddie) so we misreported a very important event when it should have received worldwide attention due to its uniqueness.

It is a simple appearing event but that is totally misleading as this event brings into play every skill that the horse and rider possesses. What you see in the image above is the rider entering into position so the horse, who is just stepping into the first part of the circle, can complete a rotation. The horse has to have complete control of its bucking ability as it needs to know exactly how and when to ‘Unload” the cowboy while maintaining enough speed to keep its revolutions up, and the cowboy has to have dexterity and strength and an ability to overcome dizziness similar to what astronauts are tested for, to keep the horse totally focused on “getting his rev’s in”. Where the cowboy places his foot on the side of the horses body allows him to be the pivot man and determines how much strength he needs to have, to pull the horse around him in a 360° circle. The amount of bucking the horse does in his circuitous route around the cowboy and the cowboys ability to remain properly suspended in the proper position while spinning around with his horse, will give him a point rating for the event.

One to three rotations of the pair will give the team a score of two to four depending on how stable the cowboy looked while competing and how the judges viewed their performance. Turning in a performance of eleven rotations or more within the eight seconds allowed for the event will send the team to the National hands down. This team was only able to get one and a half revolutions in the eight seconds and were ultimately disqualified due to the cowboy letting his left foot leave the horse’s side. His foot must be firmly stuck to the horse’s side throughout the event. One of the rules applied to this competition event is that once airborne, the cowboy’s foot can not leave the horse’s side or use his foot to hook into the stirrup or the team will be disqualified and given no score. That’s what happened here. Tough luck for this team.

It was a bitter disappointment for the team as they were thought to be one of the frontrunners in this event and destined to bring this event to a much broader audience by attending the Nationals. But this is rodeo. One day you win, another you don’t. There’s always the next time when fortunes can change in a heartbeat, or a rotation in this case. Be sure to watch for this event in upcoming rodeos. This will be a showstopper right up there with bull riding. For more information on this event and how to enter contact The Director at The Institute and we’ll send you to the proper people to talk to.

Pardon Our Turkey

Posted on November 26, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

That was the cry I heard as I sat up in The Directors chair in my office on the seventh turret in the fourth tower, the only tower that allows me to see both the sunrise and the sunset, sometimes simultaneously if the light is right, surveying the vast holdings that is The Institute. It is Thanksgiving morning and visions of fat roasting turkeys rotating slowly on the spits in our cavernous kitchen deep beneath the main keep, listening for the small explosions as the drippings fall into the embers. The smell coming up the spiral staircase causes a ravenous hunger to form in the most gentle of souls, all of this and more occupy my thoughts.

The gentle but suspicious lowing of the oxen in the kitchens’ holding pen adding their voices to the background of the holiday symphony slowly warming up. They are being fed as much as they can eat so they are properly ready for the holiday meals. Christmas is just around the corner and we’ll need three of them. The cook has chosen Lisa, Cranalby, and Lamont, one for each of the walk-in fireplaces or ovens, the hoists to lift them up onto the spits already in place, oiled and ready, the chains hanging low enough that the kitchen urchins can reach them to begin slowly turning them from carcass to steamship rounds, and briskets, and steaks and huge piles of unnamed but tasty gibbets, but that was Christmas, six weeks away, today is Turkey. Yes, big turkeys. Lots of white meat, and extra legs for those that like them.

But then, there was that call coming from way down below, “Pardon our turkeys, pardon our turkeys”, the chant rolling up the tower walls into my reveries until, that’s it, enough, I had to deal with it. Sliding down the 140′ brass pole that provided a quick exit to the ground level I was brought up short by all the interns I had sent out to gather the turkeys that I had paid good money for, see http://www.bigshotsnow.com/i-got-the-info-you-got-the-bread/, wailing and gnashing their teeth, the youngest crying like they’d never murdered a bunch of turkeys before, the oldest carrying not only their hatchets but torches too. Yelling miserably “Pardon our Turkeys, pardon our turkeys” over and over. It was heart-rending. I was torn by the angst I heard in their voices. I don’t think they could have been more affected if I had announced we were going to boil up a mess of puppies. The cute kind, like Golden Retrievers or something.

So with the thought of hatchets and torches, and in the interest of keeping my staff happy I made a snap decision. Waving my arms in the air to calm them and get them to lower those hatchets I made a command decision. “OK, Ok,” I said in my most commanding voice. “As your Director and the leader of The Institute, I hereby issue the following decision. All Turkey’s brought in for the purpose of being our Thanksgiving Dinner shall heretofore be Pardoned, set free to roam The Institute’s grounds and not be considered for their edible qualities until next year, when all bets are off.” Cheers immediately broke out with loud cries of “Huzzah, huzzah!” and “Yes, Oh thank you Director!” and even a few gobbles from the turkeys awaiting their fate.

“Turn them loose, turn them all loose.” I magnanimously said “All but Lennie the Terrible up there on the ridge. He is a rogue and a scoundrel, Bring him to me. He is a known felon who has committed grievous crimes against The Institute and must stand trial for his misdeeds at once. Take him to the kitchen I will convene court in a few moments. As for dinner we’ll be serving Cajun Lasagna in the main cafeteria.” The shock of having Lennie put on trial began to dissipate as they thought about the Cajun Lasagna, one of the all time staff favorites. Thoughts ran across their faces like a Times Square billboard. Lennie was a bastard. Nobody liked him much anyway and we got all the rest of the Turkeys pardoned. Ok cool, was the general consensus of the crowd.

All of the interns and other staff member who participated in the uprising were soon hanging around the cafeteria, their nostrils pressed against any crack in the buildings log walls, smelling the incredible scent of Cajun Lasagna, being careful not to stick their tongues on the metal trim around the windows, waiting anxiously for the dinner bell to ring.

As for me, I had the unpleasant duty to proceed with the trial of Lennie the Terrible. He was found guilty of course, the evidence being overwhelming and the sentence was carried out post-haste. We never like to see one of our prized bird friends lost but justice must be served, and Lennie will be remembered fondly at each future Thanksgiving dinner, but most especially at this one.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of our family and friends where ever they may be. You are in my thoughts and I love you all. A special thank you to all of our International readers out there. I know you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving but I know you have a lot to be thankful for and I want to tell you I appreciate your visits and support. There is a bunch of Aussies out there that I want to give a shout out to. Thanks, mates, and many other nationalities that have been recently visiting the blog. Last year we had visitors from 66 countries and this year we’re ahead of that total. I wish there was room to list you all, but it would be like the roll call at the United Nations. Thank you one and all. And come visit again soon.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

The Buffalo Whistle

Posted on November 14, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

Many of you long time readers remember that *The Institute has its own fully domesticated herd of North American Buffalo. You can see them in the picture above coming in from The Institutes high country where they summer. These are Buffalo not bison which so many of those so-called naturalists keep insisting is their correct name. Those nattering nabobs of negativity constantly repeat this misnomer. They have even gotten it into some scientific writing, by having made up a scientific name for the animal. It is “Bison, bison” as if repeating it over and over makes it so. Look it up, they have even assigned a bunch of Italian words to its Scientific Classification. Like bringing Europe into this is going to make them right.

Remember when you were young and you went to the movies. What did every single Indian and a lot of white guys call these animals? That’s right Buffalo. Sometimes Tontonka but that a story for another time. Why would they lie? All through our history, our ancestors, who couldn’t all be lying, have used buffalo in song and story. “Buffalo gals, won’t you come out tonight, come out tonight, etc.” It’s buffalo, they’re called buffalo just deal with it. Wild Bill Hickok didn’t hunt bison. He was a buffalo hunter. He’d a probably shot you for calling him a bison hunter. They were touchy about things like that.

But we digress. This is just a small part of our ~~bison~~ Buffalo herd. We decided to bring them down from their high country pastures because of the storm brewing back there on the mountain behind them. We bring them in so they don’t get wet. They become irritable when they’re wet and even though we have them trained they become peckish and out of sorts when damp.

It also gives us a chance to trim their hooves, comb them out and remove as much tartar from their teeth as possible. That all works best when you have dry buffalo to work with. Each of the mature buffalo has its own monogrammed blanket which we put on them to ward off the chill. Woe betide the intern who places the wrong blanket on the wrong buffalo. You only do that once. That’s when we bring up the interns assistant to make the change from the wrong to the right buffalo. Sometimes we have to bring up several assistants in a row to get the job done. Cardinal Rule: Watch Which Blanket You Put On Each Buffalo.

We had a moving post card from one of our young readers concerning Buffalo. Here it is.

Dear Mr. The Director, Isn’t it hard to handle Buffalo when they’re alone? How do you do it with a whole big herd? Do they bite, or kick? I’ve seen stories about buffalo on TV and they make a lot of messes all the time. Who cleans that up? I think buffalo are neat and I would like to have one. Do you ever sell them? If so I know where Mommy’s credit cards are and I could send you the numbers. Would that be all right? Sincerely, Towanda Clarice Malachowski, from Green bay, Wis. P.S. If you send one don’t send it on the weekend, that’s when my dad’s home. I don’t think he likes buffalos. Love, Towanda.

Well Towanda, thank you for writing and liking buffalo as much as we do. We can answer your questions. It is hard to handle buffalo when they’re alone and it’s really hard when there’s a bunch of them, which we call a herd. They will bite and kick but only when you do something the buffalo doesn’t like, such as tightening the blankets straps to tight. If you get one, don’t do that. It makes them grumpy. Yes Towanda they do make messes but it depends on how much you feed them. If you get one we will send along a pamphlet to explain their care and feeding. As for who cleans all that up we have a new intern here that does that. Her name is Hane Fonda and you can write to her if you want. Just send your letters to Hanie the Scooper % of The Institute.

The big question you didn’t ask, Towanda, was how do we get them to come when we call them and behave when they get here. That’s our big secret about handling buffalo. And it involves a special invention that we created right here at The Institute. Our staff at our “Inventions Made To Order While You Wait department” made it just for handling buffalo. It’s ours and no one else can have it. It’s called the “Buffalo Whistle”. When we blow it our specially trained buffalo come running to be first in line to get out of the weather. And also to do other things like tricks and synchronized dancing. We have a great big special one that we mount on a half-track ( A great big truck thing that hauls guys to places where they can shoot other guys. Ask your Mommy about War,) and when we blow that one, you can hear it in Kansas, it’s really, really loud. If there are any buffalo out there they’ll hear it and come running for sure. If you get your very own buffalo, and you said you know where mommy’s credit cards were, we’ll send you your very own buffalo whistle with your name on it. It has a hole in the top for a chain so you can wear it around your neck. None of the other kids have one of those we’ll bet. You ‘ll be the most special kid in school. Just think of show and tell day when you get to show off your new pet. We’ll send you a phone number where one of our special friends in Mumbai will help you with mommy’s credit card numbers. Then just sit back and wait. Before you can say “Holy Mackerel! That’s a big buffalo” there’ll be one at your door. Thank you for writing Towanda and you might ask some of the other kids if they like buffalos too.

We here at The Institute love to receive mail from young or old so keep those cards and letters coming in. Email too. We like Emails. We’d like to stay and chat longer but we have to get down to supervise the tartar removal process. That’s a complex process that needs a lot of supervision. It takes several interns to hold the buffalo’s head while we drill and fill as our resident dentist likes to say. Stay tuned.

* Note: For those of you unfamiliar with The Institute and what it does, please see the page labeled The Institute on the Menu Bar above. That should explain everything. You shouldn’t have one single question remaining regarding The Institute after reading it. None. For those of you favored few who already know about the Institute, Nevermind. Return to your daily activities. Thank you for your support.

A Portrait Of A Man In Stone

Posted on October 12, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

There have been many, many requests, well at least five, asking for more information about The Director. Who is this shadowy figure that controls the enormous empire that is The Institute? What does he look like? Is he nice? Does he talk or walk funny? Is he an American? Does he support the Women’s movement and their right to bear arms and/or children? Sometimes at the same time? Is he incredibly wealthy and overly generous? Does he like women who look like Christina Hendricks? Is he “LikesEmHot&Slow” on page number 300 of ‘Dating For Seniors Who Can Still Walk’ website ? Is he really as handsome, suave and debonair as they say? And of course the most commonly asked question, When can we see his picture?

Well all we can tell you is that The Director does not grant interviews. He is a very private person preferring to do his work behind the scenes, as it were, and so we cannot answer those questions. He also does not send out glossy, autographed 8×10 photos of himself suitable for framing, for 25.00 each plus postage and handling.

He did consent however to provide one image that he had done while he was tooling around Europe, or what is now known as the EU, by the famed sculptor Phenofantabulo, a stuttering, semi-literate Italian who was as crazy as an outhouse rat but a savant when it came to capturing the likeness of someone in stone. This image became so popular in Venice, a suburb of Italy, that you can still find it gracing the bottom of the many abutments that hold up Venice’s bridges. There you can see his eternal gaze fixed steadily on the waters of the canals as they slosh back and forth sluggishly before emptying into the Bay of Fundy or whatever they call that bay by Venice. The Director has a fondness for this image as he often will be found staring vacantly into any moving stream of water nearby, and as he is being guided back to The Institute will say “Did you see that?” Sometimes he will say it more than once. It’s best just to agree with him and say “Yes, yes we did.”

For those of you clamoring to see what The Director looks like the portrait above will have to suffice. Although we did mange to squirrel away a few hundred of his regular pictures we got off his driver’s license when he was down staring at the river. So the 25.00 dollar offer still stands. Let us know if you want one.

On The Edge

Posted on October 10, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

Many of you know if you read the blog often enough and every day is not often enough, that we have a mental health unit here at The Institute where we treat any and all who come weeping or wailing, or in a murderous rage, or the frustrated, or the halt and the lame, or the paranoid, lying, cheating, addle-pated terminally nutso citizens that frequent the grounds. And if you didn’t know that now, now you do.

Normally we have a full staff of defrocked Psychologists, Psychiatrists and psyche strikers or what we call wannabes to handle the surprisingly large number of patients that show up on our doorstep. But it seems that we are short of them at the moment. All we have on hand is a slightly strange shrink that just happens to be undergoing his weekly shock treatments so he is MIA just when we need him the most. This is the time of change, a time when if there are going to be any problems they will appear. In fact it will rain problems and the deluge will be biblical. And with it becoming Fall and all, what with migrations taking place, worries about the winter’s food supply for the layovers, and that ever present topic of outright desertion by ones mate who just flew off in the middle of the night, the clinic is full to overflowing. We’ve had to resort to deckside therapy as we can’t squeeze one more patient inside.

When the main shrink is here he would normally handle this patient but due to the fact that he is often discombobulated, and doesn’t know whether he walked to work or wound his watch for several weeks after each treatment, it falls on The Director to step in and assume some of his duties. Thus The Director was up at bat when this Canyon wren flew in and began a core dump of every problem she had ever had, real or imaginary, and that her life was a living hell and what were we going to do about it.

We have had experience with this young wren before and always found her to be excitable and quick to assume the worst even when the worst was happening. In fact there were marital problems in her relationships with the various male wrens she associated with before and she was seen by our resident clinician who said ” Nope, She’s just nuts. Can’t do much with her.” Her behavior was documented in the following post http://www.bigshotsnow.com/late-for-dinner/ way back in May of 2013. It seems her tolerance level has not improved since then.

But as is usually the case, letting her squeak and screech in her shrill little voice, and flutter her wings until she had it all out there was helpful. The main problem was that her mate had left early on the migration, simply saying he’d see her down there, which was the root of her angst as she didn’t know where down there was. Fortunately our case worker had been talking to the male wren who stated he just needed some quiet time and left a note for our patient saying where down there was. After finding that out and taking about a million ‘ludes to calm her down she went back and started packing to leave. Wouldn’t it be great if all problems were solved that easy.

Blood Moon Eclipse

Posted on September 29, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

On September 27 the Institute’s observatory began to record a serious anomaly with the moon. We had noticed that the moon had started getting bigger and rounder than it usually did but that wasn’t all that unnerving as we had seen it do that once before. It was several years ago and one of our observatory personnel came screeching into the Director’s office saying the moon was going to explode because it was getting bigger and we should all run for our lives. He dove under the settee and it took all manner of prodding and poking with the cattle prod the Director keeps near his desk kept just for situations like this.

It turned out that it was nothing at all to be alarmed about. Apparently one of our observatory interns read somewhere that the moon would occasionally do this. Get all big and swollen-like and all we had to do was wait a few days and all that swelling and bloating would go down. The moon apparently embarrassed by its behavior began to shrink until it was just a pale sliver of itself and the potential catastrophe was averted. We were relieved to say the least and made copious notes in our Observatories Moon book. This is what is called “A Natural Phenomenon” by scientists and other guys and it has added hugely to the sum total of our knowledge of the moon and other celestial bodies.

This was a different kettle of moonbeams this time though. Rumors and mutinous comments about this being a “Blood” moon began to spread quickly through the interns camp and soon you couldn’t find a chicken left alive as they huddled around their smoky campfires and chanted, casting fearful looks towards the sky. When there was no apparent change in the moons behavior, in fact it was getting worse, darkening and a strange shadow began appearing across its blood red face, that they realized that the sacrifices they were making were not big enough. That’s when they really flew into a frenzy and began looking at the Staff hoping to find one alone and unarmed. We had to call all our critical staff back to the main Institute’s center and activate the mine field around the building. A few Bouncing Betty’s and they pulled back. We lost three good oxen and a mule but they didn’t breach the walls of the main hall. It was a long night fraught with terror as the weaker among us wept with fear, but our defenses held and morning came none too soon.

When it was finally concluded that this was a harmless natural event although startling in its intensity, we immediately began an instructional program to educate the interns. A few beatings, some sleep deprivation, waterboarding for the more recalcitrant ones who still had the blood lust in their eyes and we were almost back to normal. One of our Observatoryologists who watches Fox news constantly said that although this event was uncommon it was not rare and we should all just calm the hell down and worry about something important, like our upcoming national elections. Now that is really freaky.

If you look at the image above, it’s scary for sure, being all over red like that, but it’s not disastrous, except for the oxen and the mule and the eight interns that charged the minefield. They found it pretty darn scary. It’s a natural event sent to us by Mother Nature to instruct us. We added a huge store of knowledge both to our Moon book and to our HR manual in how to handle employees during a crisis. The moral I guess, is don’t like totally freak just because it looks like the end of the world. Save that energy for something important.

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