I call it white horse romance. This archtype the knight in shineing armor that shows up with a bunch of roses and a pointy sword to slay the dragon. It allways has me calling bullshit.
So I took that horse after agirl broke my shell into a million scattered peices and blew that fuckers brains all over the stall.
Iv never been the Sir Gallent type, I want someone on the same level. Personaly I find that attitude a disgusting relic from an era when a woman had to play a very diffrent role in socity.
Lately Iv come to realize though there is still an animal that lives in that stall where that trusty steed once stood.
I have a white donkey.. I will pull your cart of woes all the way to the cliffs of the sea, where we can watch them fall into the ocean. I will plow and till barren feilds so life has a chance to grow there again. But I will not carry your fat ass, my short little legs just cant take anymore of the abuse. And while its not the most handsome of beasts, or awe inspireing, like a trusty honda I will start up on the coldest winter and be there to take you where you need to go.