Wednesday, July 12, 2006

True Western Truth #137

In the Squinty-eyed Old West, you were expected to remove your hat before sitting down to the supper table. You could claim extenuating circumstances if it happened to be fastened to your skull at the time by arrows or a tomahawk, and perhaps the lady of the house would grant you a temporary stay of hat removal. But after desert, she'd forcibly tend to your wounds, and her Epsom salts mixture would really sting and her salve smelled like rotting moss. You were usually better off ripping it out yourself, or skipping supper altogether.

7 Comments:

At 1:42 AM, Blogger Lightning Bug's Butt said...

I find the notion of skipping supper vulgar.

 
At 6:48 AM, Blogger randommoments said...

Yea I agree with LBB. I'd rather bleed to death at the table than skip a meal.

Especially if its something like chicken pot pie.

 
At 7:55 AM, Blogger Helga von porno said...

What kind of cringing male impersonator would expect not to remove their hat just because of a few incie pincie lwiddle arrows? Does diddums want his steak cut up for him too? And go choo choo into his mouth like a train?
Weell alright, just this once, but lets not make a habit of it.

 
At 8:55 AM, Blogger jali said...

What gentleman would complain about the scent of the salve? Prolly sweeter than that ole campfire/trail/dookied in my pants scent allowed to ripen for weeks.

 
At 11:09 AM, Blogger Cindy-Lou said...

My mama told me
Son to be polite
Take your hat off
When you walk inside

But the winds of change
They fill the air
And you can't set your hat down
Just anywhere

 
At 8:34 PM, Blogger Amandarama said...

And this is why I eat alone.

 
At 11:39 PM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

Yeah LBB? Well say that with a tomahawk wound and salve close by that stings.

Well okay, that's true Randommoments, chicken pot pies are pretty damn yummy.

Freud would have had a fuckin' field day with the reaction your post just elicited, Helga Von Porno. Do you know what I'm saying?

Jali: The concept of a "gentleman" didn't reach the Squinty-eyed Old West until 1983. Before then there were only the quick and the dead... and those who didn't like the smell of salve.

You know Cindy Lou, I grew up lonesome on the open range. Did you know that? And that cold North wind sure do make a man feel strange. Know what I'm sayin'? It surely do. It surely do.

We all eat alone Amandarama, we just sometimes like to pretend we aren't.

 

Post a Comment

<< Home