I know virtually *nothing* about what makes a real cowboy tick. I grew up on the east coast and now I live in Los Angeles. The only times I’ve been elsewhere in the states are gas stations and Dennys’ while driving from one coast to another. A few years ago some friends and I noticed an emerging phenomenon in northeastern cities that we called “The Black City Cowboy”, but that was the last I saw or heard of any modernday cowboys untill recently. I know, I know, the Brokeback thing has been blogged to death, and I wouldn’t even mention it, if not for the strapping gents I spent Friday with.
It turns out cowboys do exist, a fine group indeed, and now I’ve seen it first hand. From what I understand, they hunt wild boar with machete-looking knives and blood thirsty dogs that wear kevlar vests and thick wide leather collars (to protect their jugulars, no kidding I saw pictures – lots of them). These cowboy’s hats have the inside rims autographed by tougher, more badass, hardcore-Texas cowboys than themselves and they say things like “up yonder” even when refering to a server row in a datacenter in downtown LA.
When looking for something to do in Hollywood, these cowboys base their activities upon the proximity of Hooters and strip clubs to their target destinations and are not afraid to say so (props?). They chew tobacco, which for the record, is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen (no props!). Their heterosexuality is worn like a badge; it’s part of how they identify themselves in the world. Their smooth ways with the ladies, the bare-handed hunting capabilities, and fancy cowboy boots, belts, and hats. I’m not judgin’, I’m just sayin’.
It should be noted that because of the items outlined above, they do not like Brokeback Mountain jokes. Which is, as expected, totally irresistable to this most opportunist population here in southern California. And understandably so, ain’t often we get them types in these parts – talk about a minority. So please, if you see one in the wild, just don’t go there. It’s completely uncomfortable to everyone within earshot. Specifically, don’t say something like “You are so awesome, I might have to get all Brokeback on you!”. Okay? Just don’t.
Ps. Proir to Friday, I thought it was just people in love with jesus who said things like “God made adam and eve, not adam and steve”, not Cowboys – my ears are still bleeding and I apogize if your eyes are now too. At least nobody went ahead and suggested the Gay Rodeo while they’re in town. I think I would have died of awkwardness right there on the spot, plus I don’t think theres a Hooters nearby anyway.
Pss. I think the reason chewing tobacco is so gross is that when one picks up a cup, our innocent brains think the obvious, a sip will be taken. But instead the cup is spit into, adding to the what you now realize is an already present black slimy refuse in the bottom of the cup. Then you can’t help but think, how sickenning if a sip were to be taken. Oh the horror. The life altering horror.
{tags cowboys hooters wild boar}
