I am the World's Greatest Cowboy!

At least I will be once Clint Eastwood dies... I'm pretty sure he can kick my ass so hard my children will come out dented...

Anyway, here's my story.


We were ridin' out from the sleepy little town of San Rosario, our ranch was just outside it you see, up to Abeline to sell our herd of cattle. We had been ridin' for, I don't know, a week maybe, when we set up camp out by a right pert outcropping of rocks. We decided to make the night out of it, so ol' Jimmy brought out his bottle of whiskey, and Albert brought out his bottle of whiskey, and Tom brought out his bottle of wine- the fruit, and I brought out my bottle of whiskey and we had a good ol' time drinkin'.

Well, the last thing I remember from that night was that some longhorn was rubbing its head against my back like it wanted attention or something. Trust me, nothing happened. In my state of mind I couldn't get my pants off if I wanted to. Apparently though, I was able to saddle it up and load it with my tack, because I found myself ridin' him backwards the next morning.

I didn't know where I was or what direction we had been traveling. I was surprised by the amount of get up and go the cow had, really. I looked around in all directions and didn't recognize any of the landmarks. In short, I was right fucked. Also, the bastards I was ridin' with wouldn't come lookin' for me and I knew it. Then I realized that I had finished off my whiskey in my drunken stupor. I did the only thing a man could do in my dire situation. I cried like a little girl. My salty tears rolled cut streaks on my dusty face as I sucked my thumb and begged God to send me the mother I never knew.

I was right bummed.

Anyhow, after wastin' about half an hour I managed to get up the wherewithall to get moving again. I flipped myself around in the saddle and gave the cow a kick which caused her to start moseyin' at a right ferocious pace. I wished I had my horse, Tex, with me so that I'd make better time, but no such luck. I let the cow, who I decided to call "New Tex," lead me down two what I believed to be North but was actually South (Tom was the one who did the compass work). I would have killed for somethin' to drink.

At one point we passed a quiet Indian village. Their homes peacefully blew fragrant smoke into the breeze. I thought about asking them for whiskey, but I knew that they were a pure, spiritual people who hadn't developed a taste for it. I knew I had to find some fellow whites if I were to get the proper rot-gut I needed to survive. Me and New Tex passed by unnoticed.

Well, I traveled until dark and set up camp. I ate some of the food I had stored with me, and got myself a little fresh milk from New Tex. I could have tried that with Old Tex, but that only gets messy on the account of his masculinity. Tom tried it once, he was drunk, give him a break. I quickly fell asleep.

I awoke sometime that night to find five cattle rustlers around me. Apparently, because I only had one cattle to rustle they were right peeved with me. They had a nice assortment of firearms that I will not bother describin' for time's sake.

"Get up." The leader of the group told me.

"I already did. It happens in my sleep, I wasn't thinkin' nothing, I swear!" I told him.

One of his idiot companions laughed, and I stood up. They seemed right interested in my personal possessions which I was rather inclined to keep. I could have pulled my pistol and shot them all, but on the account of me not being Clint Eastwood I'm not sure that would have gone so hot for me. Well, they decided that they would get a little bit of mileage out of me and smiled smarmily to one another.

Now, I felt like any man who was about to be sodomized to within an inch of his life would feel- unhappy, but slightly curious.

They approached me, but I managed to trick them. I said to them, "You know, this isn't entirely fair, why don't you drop them guns and try to take me like men?"

They dropped their guns, grinnin' like idiots, and rushed me then. Well, I whipped out my Capoeira-Drunken Boxing mix street fighting moves and they all died right quick. (This is my story, fuck you. When you tell your story they can sodomize you all they want.) I scooped up their stuff and, seeing that the sun was comin' up, loaded it back onto New Tex and got movin' again. I knew that if rustlers were about there had to be some sort of town nearby.

I wandered for a long time before I came upon the town. It was the classic one dirt lane full of facaded board buildings, like you see in them "Moving Pictures." The wind whistled low. I knew something weren't right here. I could tell, it was too quiet. I took a deep breath, my heart beat a little faster, my eyebrows knotted, my eye twitched, my nostrils flared, my fingers tapped against the butt of my revolver, my rectum clenched, and my scrotum itched a little. Something wasn't right here at all.

But I needed whiskey, so I had to go in.

STAY TUNED FOR "I AM THE WORLD'S GREATEST COWBOY!- PART 2!"