#FreeBook, blog awards, and other failures #humor, #SundayBlogShare
No, seriously—you really should not have. It seems to come in waves, but lately I’ve received a number of shoutouts/awards …
No, seriously—you really should not have. It seems to come in waves, but lately I’ve received a number of shoutouts/awards …
What would you do if you knew there were dog-kicking card-cheating mouth-breather cowboys with questionable personal hygiene near the ones you love?
So yeah… I’ve been out of touch lately. In the last few months, I’ve had antibiotics, steroids, decongestants, and a particularly …
I’ve always said that our relationship was based on the two purest human feelings: pity and hunger. Back in our …
Dear Troglodyte Author:
I just wanted you to know that my dog is now getting older, just like me. But we both still know the difference between NO and YES. And we are both still learning new tricks. Maybe some day, you could be as smart as my dog.
Of course, we all know about the Wild West. Men wore cowboy hats—white stetsons for good guys, black for bad ones. Everyone was armed with a six-shooter, and cowboys were old white dudes with names like “Tex” who’d grown up on the open range. Women came in two kickass models: good (frontier wives/ preachers’ daughters) and bad (dance-hall girls/Soiled Doves such as Big Nose Kate, Doc Holliday’s common law wife). Occasionally, the Soiled Doves—if they had a Heart-of-Gold—would become good saloon owners (like Miss Kitty in Gunsmoke) or even wives. On any given noon, there could be shoot-outs on Main Street. Or perhaps a gang of black-hats wearing long dusters would arrive in town, scope out the saloon, and then rob the bank, shooting their way out of town in a hail of bullets as they hightail it back to the Hole-in-the Wall/territory line/Mexico.
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