Cowboys Don't Complain

Written by C. Cranium

Wednesday, 8 September 2010

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Unlike the stoic British, who bravely endure, cowboys accept their lot by simmering until they boil. Kicking a rock as hard as possible is an acceptable resolution for pent up anger. Or, if there is a rattlesnake handy, stomping the hell out of him before he bites you is high on the kick butt list of cowboy psychological frustration responses. Ignoring a whiner, who in response escalates his verbal moaning, is usually responded to by riding off to who knows where. Not even a 'shut the hell up' is emitted from the tough cowpoke, and the whiner is left with virtual barbwire and a smoldering campfire fifty miles from Rockridge.

The typical lack of cowboy verbosity is more than made up with complex mental dialogs far from the frustration of fixing fences. Recent psychological field studies have revealed a wealth of heretofore unknown cowpoke novel length stories dreamed up while chasing strays.

Jon Josephsen, known as Sloan, is a study participant who stopped being quiet for a few hours to tell his inner thoughts. Sloan, slang for alone, is a cowboy from eastern Oregon where the ranches are dozens of square miles and women are mirages. While successfully stomping a rattler, Sloan imagined he missed and got bit, sucked the leg wound free of venom, and then rode ride forty miles to the town doctor. The doctor was on vacation in Hawaii, so Sloan went to the saloon where the doctor's nurse and beautiful daughter, Honey, was bartending and singing karaoke. Honey immediately identified the snakebite as the rare Himalayan Rattlesnake, which was imported to control the alien kangaroo rats, which were imported to control the infestation of Canadian tumbleweed beetles.

Honey determined that Sloan had only twenty-four hours to live and the closest antibody was in Katmandu. Honey drove them to Portland in her four hundred horse-power 1963 Buick Riviera in record time. After spending ten minutes getting expedited passports Honey raced to the waiting chartered jet destined for Singapore and waiting Nepali Visas. While in Singapore, Honey and the ailing Sloan took a Hydrofoil tour of the harbor and had a quick lunch on one-hundredth flour of the Changi building.

While driving back to the airport Honey and Sloan were hijacked by Tasmanian separatists who left them to walk across a runway while a Gulf Air 757 landed. Back on the charter jet Sloan realized he had lost his saddlebags during the rental car hijacking. The saddlebags contained their passports, visas, and several pounds of gold bullion Sloan had found on Mount Tom. Now they were penniless.

Arriving in Katmandu the two travelers were refused entry and ordered to leave Nepal. Tired of bureaucratic nonsense Sloan punched the customs agent and they ran off with the customs agents in hot pursuit. Their luck was in tact as they escaped detection by hiding behind the Starbucks espresso machine, which was also equipped with modifications to make shots of tea. Running back towards the chartered jet they were captured as the jet lifted off. They were immediately deported and put on the next departing Air India flight destined for Bombay.

Coming back from the Bombay flight and likely death, Sloan realized that his Rattlesnake stew was burning. Stirring the stew and returning to the story Sloan plotted to parachute while still over Nepal and the rattlesnake antibody.

More can be found in the new book "Cowboys Don't Complain", by Ralph Rudder, 2010, Stallion Books available at book stores and online.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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