The Quantum Angler
He never gets Bohred of fishing.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Home on the range

Out amongst the stars we sat, and with our steeds grazing on the rich grasses and shrubs of the old West, we rested. The Texas kid's mouth organ wailed yearnings for bygone days, and a wolf howled off in the distance. I kicked off my spurs to warm my feet on the crackling fire, and sat in contemplation on the still night. Then Johnny 'revolver' McBride pushed something into my hands. "Get this down yer!" he said in his thick, twangy western tongue. I looked down at my feast, some real authentic Cowboy's Classic BBQ Beans flavour Hoola Hoops. I was home. As soon as I ripped open the packet, scenes of cattle rustles, saloon brawls, and 3 o'clock showdowns wafted past my nostrils. Yeah, this really was the food a cowboy dreamed about. Wasting no time I crunched down on this most essential of cowboy-fodder, and when it was gone, I lay down for the night a contented cowboy.


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