Thursday, February 01, 2007

It was cold that night up in the windswept foothills...


Cold and lonely as only a couple of cowboys would understand.
Though the fire burned low and the cold crept into their bones, they were burning inside with that passion that cannot be named...

"Are you sure you won't tell Jean he isn't my only special friend?" was whispered in Stocky's ear.

"Naw partner, it's just between you, me and that silly hat you won't take off," came the breathless reply.

"He's got expensive tastes but I just can't quit him. I need him near me if something pops up later."

''Oh then, what am I, beef jerky?' a hurt Stocky said.

"Aw come on now, maybe I wasn't that big with my last poll but there's room for all of ya in my tent."

''Are the wimmenfolk allowed in the tent too?" asked Stocky.

"Naw, thought I'd leave 'em home and safe. Cooking, cleaning and looking after the little ones. You know, things they're good at."

''Well, I'm behind you all the way, pardner," gasped Stocky.

With that we leave our cowpokes to make do as best they can.
Theirs is a hard life guiding the herd as only they know how.
Trouble is that herd has a way of stampeding off if they get wind of what's really in store for them.

Guest blogger : Mes Amis
Brick Brokeback : Daniel Brown

2 comments:

Q said...

I love the smell of scandalmongering in the morning.
I was just about to comment that it's been too long since lego has adorned and explicated the issues that trouble us.

Alison said...

Scandalmongering, Q?
Ah yes I see what you mean : the passion that cannot be named - the lust for power.

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