Get off your high horse.

He ate all the cannabis gummies out of my purse. Seriously, dude. Get off. It’s not safe.

You do not want to be up on your high horse when he absolutely flips the fuck out. He didn’t just eat one cannabis gummy. He ate all of them. 

Uh oh, look at his eyes. I know that look. He can hear his own heartbeat inside his head. He’s probably wondering why horses are measured in hands and humans are measured in feet even though horses are all-feet-no-hands land beasts. You shouldn’t have mentioned ancient units of measurement in front of your high horse, dude.

Why are you still up on your high horse? He’s looking around wildly. He thinks someone has installed cameras in the barn. Get off your high horse right this second!

Did he just mention the Boston Marathon bombing? Dude, your high horse is scared. Tell him he’s not going to be targeted for being a fast runner. That guy is in jail. Tell him it was an isolated incident. 

You’re not getting down? You think you know more about this than me? Fine. Stay up on your high horse.

I’m calling a vet.

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