Laughing With A Mouth Of Blood...

I’m imagining myself in a vast prairie. There are weeds and tall grasses. The wind is howling, but not enough to be an annoyance. I, myself, am a praire man. Ha. Not really. But, if I were a praire-loving cowboy I think I’d lasso some wild bulls. Is a fisherman water’s cowboy? He basically lassos. Two cowboys and a fisherman - the next Three’s Company. It is funny how people differ, yet how same we are. I’m a 22 year-old American guy who relates to 72 year-old Afghan women. If there was a wild bore running after us, I bet we’d both flock to the nearest water canoe and paddle off like we’re hyped on Red Bull. Cowboys probably do or don’t drink Red Bull. The might eat highly caffeinated-infused kidney beans though.

Three girls walked into a bar. The first one went to order a cocktail. The second went to sit next to an attractive man at the bar. The third stood in the doorway wondering what to do next, because she was afraid she would become the punch line.