Coffee Percs

My preference runs to coffee.  Black coffee, and not much water in it.”
              –Elmer Kelton  (Hot Iron)

    “I’ll take a bone and a cactus root…”  What’d mean, what am I doin’?  Singin’… singin’ my cares away.  Just ’cause it’s foggy this mornin’ there’s no call to say that my singin’ sounds like a foghorn.  Goin’ to call 911, why pard, what a thing to say to this ol’ fence post.  I was just enjoyin’ the mornin’ and liftin’ my voice up in joyful song.  Keep it to myself, yuh mean my singin’ ain’t joyful to you?  How this then, I’ve poured the coffee, and it’s sittin’ right in front of yuh; better than my singin’.
    Have yuh looked around much lately pard?  I’ve been lookin’ for a new species.  From what all I’m hearin’ there must be some new creatures out there.  Some are sayin’ there’s up to 15 different genders.  When I go out I see still, only the same old two:  male and female.  Now, I’ll have to admit–some of them are mighty strange lookin’.  But all this talk and confusion about gender is part of complete stupidity.   Part of the devil’s game it is.  Now, I admit.  Once, and my only year of coachin’ football, I called a linebacker over and pulled open his drawers–told him “yep, lace.”  Something happened for that youngster started hittin’ like a middle linebacker is supposed to.  They’d call it toxic masculinity today.  That’s what I wanted out there and plenty of it.
    Sorry, pard, didn’t mean to make yuh snort in yur coffee.  Here’s my bandana, wipe it up and I’ll give yuh a refill.  Where do these nuts come from?  If that’s what they’re teachin’ behinds those walls of education there’s a need to do some overhaulin’.  Don’t know if yuh knew this, but I had a hankerin’ once to go into breedin’.  Nah, silly, not my own kids.  I was goin’ to go to college, Colorado State University, matter of fact, and get into agriculture (how ’bout that, four syllable word) and get into the business of breedin’ cows, hogs, horses…  In my studyin’ back then, I found that it took only two breeds:  male and female–’tweren’t no other.  Still ain’t.
    It’s almost comical, if not so downright stupid, and deadly.  I don’t mean physical death, but the kind that can kill the soul.  If a person is that confused about life, well, I reckon he’s followin’ the author of confusion.  Coffee’s gone, I can make up a fresh pot, but know yuh have to be hittin’ the trail for today.  
    Yuh be careful out there.  More and more crazies are comin’ out and if they are confused ’bout themselves, wonder what they’ll think ’bout you traipsin’ around?  Yuh keep that gun handy, be readin’ yur Bible and check that cinch ever’time yuh mount up.