Ask AI Equestrian Edition: The Non-Horse Husband’s Roast of His Equestrian Wife
“I, too, once thought I was marrying a normal woman. She had beautiful hair, a great smile, and a laugh that made me want to listen to whatever nonsense she was talking about. Then, I heard the phrase that should’ve sent me running: ‘I have horses.'”
We’re back at it! Asking AI to create humorous equestrian-related content we call all laugh at. This time, we’ve decided to ask AI to roast* equestrian wives from a non-horse husband’s point-of-view.
*In case you didn’t know, roast means to “make fun of.”
Here’s what was AI generated…and it’s pretty funny! Feel free to laugh along with us.
All AI generated text replies are generated from ChatGPT.
Here’s the question we asked AI, “Write a passage roasting equestrian wives from the point-of-view of a non-horse husband.”
And…here’s what it came up with:
Photo by Marcella Gruchalak
The Non-Horse Husband’s Guide to Surviving His Equine-Obsessed Wife
Gentlemen, if you are reading this, it is too late. You have already married her. You have signed away your weekends, your wallet, and any chance of ever being a priority again. You are now the proud owner of *approximately* 10% of her attention—right behind her horse, her saddle, and that one barn cat that follows her around like a loyal sidekick.
I, too, once thought I was marrying a normal woman. She had beautiful hair, a great smile, and a laugh that made me want to listen to whatever nonsense she was talking about. Then, I heard the phrase that should’ve sent me running: “I have horses.”
You see, in a normal marriage, a husband competes with things like work, friends, or, at worst, a mother-in-law. Not me. I am in an ongoing, unwinnable battle against a thousand-pound hay-burning money pit named something ridiculous like “Starfire’s Majesty” or “Duke of Windhaven.” No normal names—oh no. It’s never just “Bob” or “Steve.” No, our entire bank account is dedicated to feeding something named “Shadow Dancer,” who, by the way, looks exactly like every other brown horse I’ve ever seen.
But my wife? She can tell the difference between ALL of them. She can spot the exact shade of chestnut, the precise angle of a blaze, and the slight variation in the way one horse stands compared to another. I, on the other hand, once mistook a donkey for her horse and have yet to live it down.
The Financial Ruin of a Horse Husband
Before I married my wife, I used to have money. I had hobbies. I could go out and buy myself a new fishing rod or upgrade my tools without a second thought. Now? Every single spare dollar vanishes into some bottomless pit labeled “barn expenses.”
Let’s talk about that. In any normal situation, when you spend money on something, you get to use it. Not here. I have spent more on this horse’s shoes than on my own in the past three years, and I am not even allowed to ride the thing. Nope—too “green,” too “sensitive,” or my personal favorite, “not trained for beginners.” Lady, neither was I when we got married, but here we are!
And let’s discuss vet bills. My wife will let me suffer through a head cold with nothing but a side-eye and a “You’ll live,” but the moment her horse so much as sneezes, she’s got the vet on speed dial. $600 later, we find out that “Thunder” is fine—he just inhaled a bit of dust. Glad we could spend our grocery money on that!
The Hierarchy of Love in Our Household
In a normal marriage, you might think you rank above a pet. Not in a horse household. The hierarchy in my house goes something like this:
1. The Horse
2. The Trainer
3. The Barn Cats
4. The Horse’s Farrier
5. That One Random Barn Friend She Talks to More Than Me
6. The Guy Who Sells the Fancy Hay
7. Me
There is no competing with the horse. I have tried. I have put on my best outfits, taken her to fancy dinners, even made an attempt at understanding dressage (which, by the way, looks like a very expensive version of Simon Says). But at the end of the day, the only muscles she’s interested in belong to her four-legged soulmate, not me.
Ever tried to be romantic with a horse girl? Good luck. Just when you think you have her full attention, she will suddenly whip out her phone, scrolling through videos of her last ride, zooming in on things I will never understand.
Me: “What are you looking at?”
Her: “Ugh, look at this!”
Me (seeing absolutely nothing wrong): “Yeah… what am I looking at?”
Her: “His left hind isn’t engaging enough.”
Lady, I don’t even know what that means.
The Everlasting Smell of Horse
I have come to terms with the fact that my wife is a walking barnyard air freshener. Her car? Smells like hay and sadness. Our laundry? A mix of leather, sweat, and whatever mystery substance she stepped in that day. I have fully accepted that no matter how many times I shower, hug her, or step within a ten-foot radius of her riding boots, I will smell like a stable. Forever.
Speaking of boots, why does she need so many? Every time I turn around, there’s a new pair of “essential” boots for some specific weather condition or riding discipline I don’t understand. Meanwhile, I’ve been wearing the same sneakers for three years, and they have holes in them.
The Horse Trailer Incident
Before I wrap this up, let me tell you about the time I dared to ask why we needed a new horse trailer. We already had one—big, sturdy, still functioning (as far as I could tell). But no, apparently, it wasn’t big enough or safe enough or fancy enough.
So we upgraded. And by “we,” I mean she picked it out, and I just stood there pretending I had a say in the matter. Now, we own a trailer that costs more than my truck, and I don’t even get to use it.
Final Thoughts from a Defeated Man
Look, I love my wife. I really do. But being a horse husband is not for the weak. It requires patience, deep pockets, and the ability to accept that no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you will NEVER be as important to her as that giant hay-burning beast in the barn.
Would I do it all over again?
…Ask me after I see this month’s credit card statement.
Photo by Marcella Gruchalak
This one gave us a good chuckle. We hope you laughed as much as we did.
