Cowboys, Wounds, and Sausage

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I have one pair of cowboy boots which I wear when I want to feel like a cowboy. A little taller, a little pointier, a little cooler. No hat or dinner-plate sized belt buckle or creased jeans, just those badass black pointy toes sticking out. When I was a cobbler, I repaired many hundreds of pairs of cowboy boots; before we commenced work we often found unusual things inside them. Guns, knives, flasks, money, even a little bag of cocaine, but more than anything else we found women’s panties. The Lost Cowboy may just find himself yet, in a house of temptation. But, who is tempting whom?

The Wound Man is a Medieval character inflicted with every kind of traumatic and potentially lethal puncture and incision, beautiful colored etchings depict his sorry lot. In the late 19th century The Magnetic Belt was advertised as a cure for nearly every ailment – even blunt-force trauma and stapling.

I love Wisconsin, I love to love it and I love to complain about it. That is the right of every state native. A wise 1990’s chat room host once said, “Wisconsin has beer cheese, cheese beer, sausage cheese, cheese sausage, and beer sausage. But not Sausage Beer. Perhaps that’s a good thing. These are Old-Bavarian comfort foods enjoyed best while watching a ball game (of your choice).

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