Rickey got a big ranch. Rickey got a big bull. Rickey got horses. Rickey got chickens and everything. And Rickey got a 20-gallon hat.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I'm a cowboy. I wear a hat. I drive a 4x4 Silverado diesel truck. I've got a farm.
The second purchase was my ranch, Mockingbird Hill. The third purchase was Longhorn cattle.
My dad was the manager at the 45,000-acre ranch, but he owned his own 1,200-acre ranch, and I owned four cattle that he gave to me when I graduated from grammar school, from the eighth grade. And those cows multiplied, and he kept track of them for years for me. And that was my herd.
My uncle always said that I could have been a rancher.
I had a ton of animals; I had a goat growing up, a bunch of rabbits, a vegetable garden.
Daddy had a farm - cows, pigs, OK, a big garden, OK? We did live off the land, and then we would supplement all that with whatever we could kill or catch. Whether we'd kill squirrels, deer, duck, or caught catfish or brim, that was what went on the table.
Thanks to farm subsidies, the fine collaboration between agribusiness and Congress, soy, corn and cattle became king. And chicken soon joined them on the throne. It was during this period that the cycle of dietary and planetary destruction began, the thing we're only realizing just now.
If a farmer fills his barn with grain, he gets mice. If he leaves it empty, he gets actors.
Rickey don't like it when Rickey can't find Rickey's limo.
A 'farm' today means 100,000 chickens in a space the size of a Motel 6 shower stall.