Hotter than a $2 pistol |

Hotter than a $2 pistol

Actually, I have never seen a $2 pistol. I reckon that phrase means it was stolen and that makes it hot. What do you think? Yes, it is hot and you are well aware of it and you are wondering why I am even bringing it up, aren’t ya, gentle reader? I needed something to write about.

I was out earlier this morning after coffee with mi amigos and mowing down some weeds. It was very, very hot! It took me back to 79, that’s 1979 not 1879, down in North East Texas. That was the year it was so hot and so very dry that our normal hay production of around 1,500 round bales of costly hay wound up being only 16 bales if I remember correctly. Guess what? The next winter rolled around and it turned out to be one of the very worst on record for that part of the country. Soooo … my point is, LOOK OUT Charlie Brown, I am going to predict a very cold and wet winter. Who knows?

I see on the news where the UK, Italy and Spain are having terrible hot temps as well. Along with that they are having a lot of fires to make things worse. By the way … do you think that maybe Antifa or someone like that has started a lot of our fires here in the good ol’ US of A? I wonder. I sure wouldn’t put it past them. Seems like we have had fires when there were no storms, no campers and what not. Forrests just exploding for no reason that makes no sense. My brother sent me a text yesterday from Andrews, Texas, (in the heart of the Permian Basin, in West Texas) and he had 107 in the shade right after lunch. Yep, Texas, Oklahoma and many of our southern and western states like New Mexico are ablaze. Let’s not forget that this is the perfect ammo for those global warming folks. It has been hotter than this in the past. Check it out.

Cheyenne Frontier Days are in progress as I write. I bet that midway and arena are indeed, “hotter than a $2 pistol.” I wouldn’t want to be walking around the carnival or the Indian village eating a turkey leg in this kind of weather. My Texas friends will be pleased to know that they won’t need their coats when they wander around the rodeo grounds or Cheyenne at night. Ice cream sales will be hotter than a $2 pistol.

For me, I ain’t gonna’ go anywhere but stay cool here in my little digs. Don’t get me wrong. I think that you for sure need to go up to Cheyenne and take part of the “Daddy of them All.” It is an amazing place and you will see things you have never seen before. And trust me, there will be a lot of “Dairy Queen Dudes” trying to impress their girlfriends and pull their attention away from the “REAL COWBOYS.” I just somehow feel like a woman knows when she is in the presence of the real McCoy. By golly, we can’t help being what we are, can we?

Believe me when I tell you that there are real cowboys as I write, out a’horseback somewhere checking the cattle in their care and seeing if the windmills have put out enough water and doctoring anything that does not look as if it is doing okay. That’s what real cowboys do, hot weather, cold weather or on the nicest day God ever created. When the day is done, it’s a cold beer or a tall glass of Texas sweet tea. I know those guys even though I have not met them. They will be at Cheyenne Frontier Days at some point or the other and they will not mind the heat as much as those guys with their roll It up straw hats with all the feathers and ornaments” dangling off of it. Yep, it’s hotter than a $2 pistol and will be for a while longer and then it will cool down and we will forget how miserable we were for a while. Isn’t that the way it works?

I saw on the news where we have been invaded by some big ugly beetle and I happen to see one in my garage just yesterday. To say that they are big and ugly would be an understatement. They look prehistoric much like the horned toads with all their armor on their heads and back. The beetle looked hotter than a $2 pistol.

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, remember this, “the greatest evils in the world will not be carried out by men with guns, but by men in suits sitting behind a desk,” C.S. Lewis, British novelist. I’ll c. y’all, all y’all.


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