My parents took me to a rodeo in Fort Worth for Christmas. A fucking rodeo. I mean seriously, guys. C'mon. They took me to a rodeo. Horses and cows and boots and cowboy hats, all in a giant dirt oval. To say nothing of how inherently dumb rodeos are, what does this say about how well my parents actually know me? I love them. They love me. But how little do you have to actually know about me, how little about my passions and interests and personality do you have to know to actually think taking me to the rodeo for Christmas would be a good idea?
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