Well, it may have been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, but it's been downright comatose around this blog. I was expectin' more whoopin' and hollerin' and shootin' guns in the air, and instead we end up turning this damn thing into "Iron John" online and then forget about it altogether.
Downright pathetic, tell you. In fact, it's just about enough to make a man look into the mirror and slap the shit out of his reflection.
So instead, let me tell you little cowpokes a little story. A story about how for the second consecutive weekend, your pal Bronco Billy got hit on by a Republican. I mean I'm sitting there at the bar and before I know it, this assertive blonde-haired woman with a security clearance the size of Nebraska who looks me straight in the eye when she talks to me is noticing that I need another drink and is doing something about it. She's talking to me about her condo, her enormous LCD TV, and John McCain. I feel my head to begin to spin, and before I know it, I'm having an out-of-body experience.
Must escape this evil... Must not allow this insidious political doctrine to regain foothold in my psyche...
Now we both need drinks, and Mama didn't raise no impolite cowboys, so I order us up a couple more. Now we're talking about terrorism, and the FBI, and when it's okay to "take out the bad guys." And I'm not really arguing with her that much.
Sweet mercy, what in the name of Howard Zinn is going on here?!?!?!
It's now well past the time I planned on heading out and our drinks are empty again. Decision time. And then I hear a voice in my head as clear as day. As clear as Luke heard Ben Kenobi. (I'm not sure, but based on the accent, I think it was the voice of Ted Kennedy.) And what the voice said to me was this:
"Run, Bronco Billy! Run!"
And so after exchanging some concluding pleasantries, I did just that. I hit the door of that saloon, got on my horse and didn't look back. The next day I relayed this story to an old friend of mine, and he says to me, "Well, that's two weeks in a row. I can't figure if these Republican women are looking for a guy or just looking for a reformation project. I guess it doesn't really matter though."
"Why doesn't it matter?" I asked him, not realizing I had walked right into his punchline.
"Because in the mind of a woman," he said, "Aren't they the same thing?"
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5 comments:
Probably. If she had said something along the lines of, "We should leave now. My Pontiac GTO is parked around the corner," that would have done it for sure.
Red, blue - all pink in the middle.
"Beat me, whip me, give me school choice vouchers?"
Nah, I think I'll stick with the lefties. Maybe moderates if I've had a few beers.
Bronco - your allure transcends politics. You know that!
I don't think I've ever heard of a woman talking about her TV. She was a rare specimen indeed.
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