Er, Hi there. I'm still a little torn on this place, but we'll see how it goes.
Anyway, when I was a wee lad I asked my mother if cowboys ate hay. "Only if you soak it in whiskey," she replied.
So I went to my Uncle Pete, who tended to soak himself in whiskey, and asked if he was a cowboy. "No," he said, ""I work for Highways."
I asked what the difference was. "Well," Pete said, "Nobody at Highways wears a floppy hat and high heels, and when we fall down there's no f****** clown to save us."
"Who does save you?" I asked.
"Well, I was kind of counting on the whiskey," Pete said.
So you can see that I had little choice but to become a writer.
Hey
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