Authentic Romantic.

 

 

 

 

I was called an 'authentic cowboy' the other day in the street...& it wasn't by someone deranged or demented.  She was young, attractive, and cogent.  I didn't have the heart to tell her...that I don't sit by the fire as the moon rises, thinking 'bout women and glasses of beer...closing my eyes as the dogies retire...I have an ACTUAL beer...in a Motel Room bed, watch the ladies do their thang on the YP...then pass out.  More bogies than dogies.  But for a fleeting second there...I wished I were an 'authentic' cowboy.  Every once in a while...I have that romantic notion. 

 

Do you??

 

 

 

Earning My Wings.

 

Everywhere I go in the US and Canada, they are mad for Wings.

Every bar, every restaurant...

Everywhere.


Wing this, wing that...

'Wing Nights'. 

Chilli sauce, BBQ sauce...

yummy.

Wings. 


As someone who wants to fly...

Swooping and soaring, ever upward and onward toward the Heavens...

I can't countenance the idea of eating something some other creature has been flapping with. 

I don't care if chickens can't get airborne. 

They try.

Just like me.


I can't think of anything worse than taking something else's wings...

& gobbling them down.

urp.


I'm sure if Angels dwelled among us...

There would be humans trying to kill them and eat their wings.