I grew up in Northern Idaho, where IQs are generally room temperature and it's socially acceptable to drink whiskey mixed with cough syrup for breakfast. My family moved there from California when I was seven and decided to buy a couple horses in order to embrace the Idahoan lifestyle. We didn't ride them, really, they mostly just stood outside like big dumb lawn ornaments. Over the next ten years I developed an unruly hatred for these God-awful pig monsters. Here's why.
