It's been a quiet, mundane day today. Nothing exciting has happened, no drama has occurred, and I've seen almost literally no one (and would have seen absolutely no one--and thus talked to absolutely no one--had I not gone out to grab some food earlier).
One amusing thing did happen while I was at the corner store earlier this evening. One of the guys in front of me ( aside from looking entirely too financially well off to be fair and too young to be buying all the beer they were getting) was wearing cowboy boots. One of the girls walking into the place as he was walking out happened to comment on this to one of her friends...to which I thought, "yeah, he's got on cowboy boots, and he also just bought some chewing tobacco. I'm sure he completes the image by listening to Travis Tritt or somesuch crap."
There are times when I really want to actually voice thoughts like that and disillusion people about guys running around in cowboy boots. I think cowboys are far too romanticized in American culture. I think entirely too many women--especially in Oklahoma and Texas--see cowboy boots and think the guy must automatically be a catch simply because of his footwear.
Which, of course, is ridiculous. Anyone willing to make a value judgment based on my footwear is obviously not worth knowning.
"But Chuck," you're thinking, "didn't you just make a negative value judgment on this guy based on his footwear?" To which I reply, "No, I did not. I made one based on his footwear, his purchases at the store (beer and chew), his ridiculous 'I spent twenty minutes gelling my hair so it would look all messy and stuff like I'm too busy to comb it' haircut, and the fact that I overheard a bit of his conversation with his buddy. None of it led me to believe this was an individual worth knowing, and he's probably just taking up space and resources by someone who isn't making an effort to kill his braincells with Keystone Light."
Honestly, folks, if you're going to kill your braincells with alcohol, at least make a twenty-year-old single malt scotch or something. The end results are the same, and the scotch doesn't taste like horse piss.
On a completely unrelated note, I'm a pirate, and I have a big anchor. Yarrr.
~chuck
Song of the Moment: Bob Dylan, "With God On Our Side"
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3 comments:
But, Chuck...Cowboys are cool! They do all that stuff like killing all the natives and stealing their land and moving the remnants into God-forsaken Oklahoma. Yeah! Cowboys!
Seriously, someone oughta kick these guys in the nuts with their own spurs.
There's a definite kicking-people-in-the-nuts theme to your last couple of posts, Adam. A little pent-up angst from Wal-Mart?
A little?
Feh.
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