Sons-a-bitches!
Someone shot our longhorn? Sons-a-bitches!
You betcha there's more to tell, but we're roundin' up a posse first. and some rope...Back soon...
And we're back. And the SOB who sat there and thought our longhorn was a deer, yep, a damn white fallow deer! is in jail. Thank you, Mr. Game Warden.
Ya see, a felon ain't s'posed to have a gun. Or shoot it. At a longhorn. A registered Texas Longhorn like ROAN. Dumb *&**%$%^*&)( !!
Course, we've had lotsa volunteers to help settle the score. But nah. So he's fixin to git sooood. A lot. Did we mention dumb )*&(^(^&*%^*^!!
and THAT, my friend, is another true Bandera story.
What's with the Chickens and the Coop?
She couldn't dance and she damn sure couldn't sing. But no one had the heart to tell her, 'specially not her husband. 'Cuz he knew all she wanted to do in life was dance. And sing. Really sing. So he built her a singin place right there on Main Street, in Bandera Texas USA. But he'd spent most a his money on her singing lessons (all in vain needless to say) so he ran outa money after he put the floor in and the roof. And the law said he had to have walls if he wanted to sell beer. So he did what every good husband would do: exactly what he had to. chicken wire. Yep, chicken wire. And lots of it. all around. The whole damn place. There. Got your walls. Now give me my license. "and you, honey, GIT ON UP THERE AND SING!!! and the name of the joint: The Coop. As in Chicken Coop. And THAT, my friend, is a damn true story. More history to tell, but we're goin' for beers now. Be back shortly.
