Just about every city kiddo that dreamed of bein’ a cowboy when they grew up started with a trusty stick horse. Complete with obnoxious neighing that'd make mama bust out the middle name.
Deep in the heart of Tejas, two skeletons come to life under the full moon. Known as "Los Viejones," these spirited ancestors adorned in traditional attire, dance the night away, their bones rattling a rhythmic tune that echoes through the plains.
“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.