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As a kid, I spent a lot of time dressed up as a cowboy and much of that time I had a broom between my legs as a makeshift horse. Do they still make these things? I had a red one and put thousands of miles on it, into the sunset and otherwise.
I was raised mostly in Oklahoma and gave up my cowboy costumes as soon as I was old enough to realize that while I was an open-minded, liberal, sensitive, creative artist type, real cowboys typically were not. Many of them even had unkind names for people like me.
Decades later, in my forties, I took to wearing corny, vintage cowboy shirts again, but this time with a stingy-brim fedora and Doc Martin’s or Converse Chuck’s, which would certainly differentiate me from a real cowboy, at least in the eyes of anyone who’s experienced any proximity to real cowboys.
Now that I live in Mexico, I find that I’m wearing the full cowboy costume again: cowboy hat or sombrero, corny, flamboyant, baroque western shirts, and pointy-toed, high-heeled cowboy boots. Here, I’m not as likely to be confused with the sort of Oklahoma cowboys who think Trump is rescuing America from “faggots and foreigners.” Gringos who think like that tend not to visit the parts of Mexico that I frequent. I suspect most of my Mexican neighbors think I’m just some eccentric gringo verging on dementia. Perhaps they are more right than I realize.
Truth is, I like costumes. I get gussied up for Halloween almost every year and enjoy dressing a little kooky the rest of the time, too. And why not? I’m way past having to worry about a boss who objects to my dressing like Roy Rogers in the office and I’ve never been one to care too much about the judgments of strangers. I’ve not read the book The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*ck, but based on the title alone, I’m guessing I’d recommend it.
Which brings us to that time when we check into what Wayno was giving a f*ck about in his cartoon factory this week. Let’s find out…
And if that cloud ever fails, we’re going to be crushed by a downpour of all of your stuff, man. Thanks.
Having a BBQ this weekend? Don’t forget to grab a case of Bizarro Bunny Beer—pilsner, lager, I.P.A. or our new Bunny Stout, now with Real Rabbit Pellets®.
If I were him, I’d worry that I might develop a kidney stone with a sword in it. I’m guessing that’s a story Disney would not animate.
What’s my favorite thing about this cartoon? The upside-down eagle on the podium seal.
Since we are clearly living in The Upside-Down, I advocate turning the actual presidential seal upside-down as long as a comic book villain is squatting in the White House.
Don’t know if you’ve been keeping up with facial recognition technology but it’s pretty scary. According to studies, those programs can predict so much about a person just by a security camera snapshot that it’s alarmingly easy to imagine a world in which people are arrested for undisclosed intentions. Think it will never come to that? That’s what most of us thought as we laughed at a Simpsons episode in 2000 that referred to a future Trump presidency.
BTW: This is my fave gag of the week because I love to make faces, which one day soon, everyone may be doing as they pass the facial recognition cameras on every light pole. Wayno has some fun with this concept on his weekly blog about this same batch of gags. Have a looksee for yourself!
“I’m all out of lemon wedges but I could give you a wedgie. They’re very uplifting.” They certainly are.
Okay, Jazz Pickles, that concludes another segment of wasted time on the Internet. If you appreciate not having to constantly dodge commercials and ads on this site, please consider patronizing one of the things behind the links below. Every little bit helps us keep this blog ad-free for your enjoyment.
Until next week, be happy, be smart, be nice, and resist ignorance and fascism.
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