Farmers, ranchers and cowboys have plenty of colorful sayings. Admittedly some of them are a trifle obscene. Just for fun, I’ve collected a few (and cleaned up some of hubby’s favorites).
A dead bee can still sting.
A dead snake can still bite.
A drought usually ends with a flood.
A guilty fox hunts his own hole.
A real revolving son of a bitch.
A she-bear in satin.
All stove up.
Always drink upstream from the herd.
An old horse, an old dog and an old farmer have much in common: they are slow but wise.
Any mule’s tail can catch cockleburs.
Anyone can farm, but not everyone is a farmer.
Anytime you happen to pass by my house, I’d sure appreciate it.
As dark as the inside of a cow.
As exciting as waiting for paint to dry.
As welcome as a porcupine at a nudist colony.
As welcome as a skunk at a lawn party.
As welcome as a tornado on a trail drive.
Better to keep your mouth shut and seem a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.
Burning daylight (this one actually originated with William Shakespeare).
Busy as a funeral home fan in July.
Busy as a hound in flea season.
Busy as a one-armed paperhanger in a 40-room mansion.
Busy as a one-eyed dog in a smokehouse.
Busy as a one-legged man in a butt-kickin’ contest.
Busy as a stump-tailed bull in fly season.
Coffee so strong it’ll raise a blood blister on a boot.
Coffee so strong it’ll walk into your cup.
Cold as a cast-iron commode.
Cold as a banker’s heart.
Cold as a frosted frog.
Cold as a well-digger’s knee.
Cold as an ex-wife’s heart.
Cold as hell with the furnace out.
Come hell or high water.
Company’s coming; add a cup of water to the soup.
Crazy as a bullbat.
Crooked as a dog’s hind leg.
Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you.
Don’t dig up more snakes than you can kill.
Don’t pick a fight with an old man. If he’s too old to fight, he’ll just kill you.
Don’t rile the wagon master.
Don’t squat on your spurs.
Don’t tip over the outhouse.
Down the road a piece.
Drier than a popcorn’s fart.
Drunk as a skunk.
Drunker than 700 hundred dollars.
Drunk as Cooter Brown.
Drunker than Cooter’s mule.
Dry as the heart of a haystack.
Dumb as a box of rocks.
Dumb as a post.
Dumber than dirt.
Easy as pissing up a rope.
Even a blind hog can find an acorn once in a while.
Even the chickens under the porch know that.
Every path has a few puddles.
Farming is like playing five-card poker with four cards.
Farming looks mighty easy when your plow is a pencil and you’re a thousand miles from the corn field (that’s from President Eisenhower).
Fast as greased lightning.
Fast as small-town gossip.
Faster than a prairie fire with a tail wind.
Faster than a scalded cat.
Fat as a town dog.
Fine as frog hair.
Flat as a fritter.
For a farmer, next year will always be better.
Forgive your enemies; it messes up their heads.
Friendly as a bramble bush.
Give me the bacon without the sizzle.
Going like a house afire.
Good judgment comes from experience and a lotta that comes from bad judgment.
Got to get back to my rat killing.
Got to slop the hogs, dig the well, and plow the south forty before breakfast.
Grinning like a mule eating cockleburs.
Handy as hip pockets on a hog.
Handy as sliced bread.
Happy as a hog in mud.
Hasn’t got a pot to pee in or a window to throw it out of.
He always draws the best bull.
He broke his arm patting himself on the back.
He can ride the rough string.
He can’t win for losing.
He could draw a pat hand from a stacked deck.
He could find a whisper in a whirlwind.
He could sit on the fence and the birds would feed him.
He could talk the ears off a mule.
He could talk the gate off its hinges.
He could talk the hide off a cow.
He couldn’t hit the floor if he fell out of bed.
He couldn’t knock a hole in the wind with a sackful of hammers.
He didn’t come to town two to a mule.
Rich enough to eat her laying hens.
He doesn’t know enough to pound sand down a rat hole.
He don’t care what you call him as long as you call him to supper.
He don’t know diddly squat.
He got his tail feathers trimmed.
He got whipped with an ugly stick.
He jumped on me like a duck on a June bug.
He jumped on me like white on rice.
He jumped on me with all four feet.
He lies like a tombstone.
He loaded the wrong wagon.
He looks like a sheep-killing dog.
He looks like Bowser’s bone.
He looks like death warmed over.
He looks like he was inside the outhouse when the lightning struck.
He looks like the cheese fell off his cracker.
He may not be a chicken, but he has his henhouse ways.
He shoots off his mouth so much he must eat bullets for breakfast.
He thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow.
He was born sorry.
He was vaccinated with a Victrola needle (a Victrola was the first make of record player).
He wasn’t born, just squeezed out of a bartender’s rag.
He wouldn’t scratch his own mama’s fleas.
He’d have to stand up to look a rattler in the eye.
He’d shoot craps with the devil himself.
He’d steal his mama’s egg money.
He’d steal the flowers off his grandma’s grave.
He’d steal the nickels off a dead man’s eyes.
He’ll eat anything that don’t eat him first.
He’ll squeeze a nickel till the buffalo screams.
He’ll tell you how the cow ate the cabbage.
He’s a chin musician.
He’s a day late and a dollar short.
He’s a few pickles short of a barrel.
He’s all hat and no cattle.
He’s big enough to bear hunt with a twig.
He’s broke as a stick horse.
He’s got a hitch in his gitalong.
He’s got a ten-gallon mouth.
He’s got his tail up.
He’s got horns holding up his halo.