It ain’t a buckin’ bronco… it’s a steel stallion! With a hydraulic kick and a mean setta horns, this sucker is low, loud, and liable to send your hat flyin’.
“Never was a horse that couldn't be rode, never was a man that couldn't be throwed.” A wise ol’ cowboy told us this one day. Said once he understood it, it changed his whole life.
Rumor has it, extra terrestrial life forms didn’t originally come in peace. It wasn’t till they landed in Tejas and discovered Lone Star Beer and barbecue that they changed their minds. Lookin’ at you Ohio, you almost ruined it for us.
Sometimes you plan it, but most nights it just sneaks up on ya. Next thing you know, you’re sitting at a Waffle House at 3am drinkin’ cheap black coffee wonderin’ where the night went. Our best guess? You got a little rowdy, amigo.
Rode hard into a typhoon for several days. Couldn’t see five feet in front of our faces, but we drove the herd till we found some new country to pasture ‘em in. They grill their fish over charcoal and serve it with pickled plums in these parts.
We kept going west till we ended up somewhere else entirely. Maybe it was east. Maybe it was a fever dream. All we know is, the sashimi was fresh, the barstools were low, and the neon signs looked mighty familiar.
The road has been long and hard for this ol' cowboy, but he paces onward across the dusty plain. Carved by his own grit and determination, the path leads on...
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