When I was littler I always wanted to be a cowboy, one of those Marlboro guys with the neat moustache and gouache’s pants, what’re they called. The way I saw it, then at least, smoking and riding a horse was the best thing a kid could hope for, that and not having to wear those short pants that aren’t really shorts or long pants but somewhere in between. The more I think about it the less I think; if that makes any sense. Thinking is highly overrated anyhow, so why bother to begin with, really. Although it might help quicken up the thickening of my soft spot, so I guess that’s good then, on account of that I guess. I saw in a movie once that some cowboys have dogs that’ll follow them around, kind of like littler dogs, what’re called puppy dogs, but I’m sure you already knew that. Our dog wouldn’t have on account that that’s not the kind of dog he was. He was more like one of those lapdogs, meaning not all that interested in following anyone around, even cowboys. How do you call them, their sort of those kind of dogs that aren’t much into doing athletic stuff, not that dogs--any dogs, really--are athletic, but even if he was he wouldn’t have done it anyhow. I suppose being a cowboy’s dog isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, having to following behind a horse and all.
I get tired pretty easy, so my granddad said. He said it was on account of that I’m littler for my age than I’m suppose to be, which isn’t all that bad when your young and a baby and all, but gets worse when you get older and wiser, even though I’m not what you’d call wise, not by a long shot. I’ve know lots of people what’re smarter than me, even some who was littler than me but smarter just the same. That guy on the bus reading the National Geographic, chances are he’s pretty much smarter than me, but just seems stupider cause he’s reading the National Geographic and not just flipping the pages back and forth like most people do. I’m sure my grandmamma would have something to say about that, but in the long shot it don’t matter much, not at all, really. She always championed me, that’s for certain, but sometimes being someone’s champion isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, even if it is your grandmamma. I’m too tired to think now, most times, actually, so best stop scrambling up my brain, even if it is a crackpot of a brain to start with. Anyhow being a cowboy wouldn’t help matters much on account of the fact that I’m not much good at riding a horse, that and the fact I can’t hold on too good.
I get tired pretty easy, so my granddad said. He said it was on account of that I’m littler for my age than I’m suppose to be, which isn’t all that bad when your young and a baby and all, but gets worse when you get older and wiser, even though I’m not what you’d call wise, not by a long shot. I’ve know lots of people what’re smarter than me, even some who was littler than me but smarter just the same. That guy on the bus reading the National Geographic, chances are he’s pretty much smarter than me, but just seems stupider cause he’s reading the National Geographic and not just flipping the pages back and forth like most people do. I’m sure my grandmamma would have something to say about that, but in the long shot it don’t matter much, not at all, really. She always championed me, that’s for certain, but sometimes being someone’s champion isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, even if it is your grandmamma. I’m too tired to think now, most times, actually, so best stop scrambling up my brain, even if it is a crackpot of a brain to start with. Anyhow being a cowboy wouldn’t help matters much on account of the fact that I’m not much good at riding a horse, that and the fact I can’t hold on too good.
No comments:
Post a Comment