He put a coffee kettle near the flames and waited for it to boil.  He enjoyed the smell of campfire smoke, and of the coffee coming to life in the kettle.”  
              –Brad Denison (Wandering Man)

Mornin’, Pard, come on in.  Say, what happened to yur head?  Tsk, tsk, I told yuh to be checkin’ yur cinch.  What’s that?  Yur hoss is racist?  Where in the world did yuh come up with that notion?  It’s an appaloosa, ha, I guess it’s mixed, and to go a step further it’s a geldin’ so it’s gender neutral.  
    Who told yuh that yur hoss was racist?  Oh, anythin’ that goes wrong is the excuse to give.  My mercy, has this world gone crazy or what?  I get yuh Pard, and if yuh don’t like somethin’ yuh just whimper, “I’m offended” and it will be all right.  Well, maybe it’s time for some to get offended with the offended and tan their hides.  What’s that?  Oh, it’s not woke to spank, someone; their self-esteem might get hurt.  I tell yuh what, somethin’ need to be hurtin’.  
    I seem to recall or read somewhere last week, “Do not negotiate with crazy.”  Pard, there’s more to it than that; yuh can’t negotiate with crazy!  Someone told me that a fool was someone who makes silly or stupid mistakes.  They’re just plain goofy.  Oh, my, I shouldn’t have said that, next thing yuh know they’ll remove Goofy along with the others.  Ha, it’s kinda funny in a way–the looney tunes upset the looney tunes.
    Fools despise wisdom and instruction, and add to that they hate knowledge.  Confront a fool with knowledge and he’ll hiss at you, or spit in yur face, or cry like a baby that they’re offended.  Say did yuh know that a “fool” is talked about 78 times in the book of Proverbs (NKJV) and 83 times (NASB).  What’s really sad, it’s those bureaucratic fools that’s makin’ a wreck of this country.
    Whew, let me ease up, drink some coffee.  Don’t mean to get riled, Pard, but sometimes, well, just sometimes.  Not goin’ to let a bunch of fools make me disgruntled.  Yuh, haven’t been ’round durin’ the week, but do yuh know I sometimes have to make three pots or more of coffee.  Not that I mind, but I shore am kept busy keepin’ the pot goin’.  At least I can sit back and talk with folk that know how the cow eats the cabbage, an’ not a bunch of fools.  
    Yuh best be careful who yuh listen to.  Don’t get caught up in all the clabber of fools.  And for goodness sake, don’t be blamin’ yur hoss when yuh forget to check yur cinch.
               Vaya con Dios.

We dragged ourselves to the fire, grabbed up tin cups and drank down several cups of steaming coffee.”
              –Richard P. Hobson, Jr.  (Nothing Too Good for a Cowboy)

Hope yur not draggin’ Pard.  Seems somethin’s ailin’ yuh.  Sit yurself down, the coffee’s ready, and I’ll get yuh a cup poured.  It’ll help yur ailin’ soul an’ give hustle to yur bustle.  Ahhh, not bad, not bad at’ll.
    Don’t yuh be tellin’ me that the bureaucrats are givin’ yuh fits.  Yuh know they’re liars.  Anything to fill their never-empty pockets.  Most of them care little for us common folk unless it’s election time.  Why I’ve heard of those homeless derelicts on the street be given a cheap bottle of wine and ten dollars to vote for a certain individual.  Yep, they really helped that poor ol’ boy.
    Say, yuh know all that money we pour into insurance?  I’m gonna get some of it back.  Yep, hopefully work will get started and me an’ the missus we’ll be able to move back in fairly soon.  I miss watchin’ the sun come up of a mornin’.  ‘Course, it’s been a spell since yuh’ve gotten up that early.  Hmmm, maybe that’s why yur draggin’ in this mornin’.  We’ll wait an’ see just how much my insurance goes up next year.  Those ol’ boys are near as bad as the bureaucrats; they make sure they get their money.
    Let me fill that cup for yuh.  Listen, Pard, I learned a long time ago not to be expectin’ too much from those politikcians an’ other forms of bureaucratic vermin.  If I get something, I say “thank the Lord,” for He has to work through those hearts of stone.  If’n I don’t get nothin’, I won’t be disappointed.  I’ve always tried to keep my hands in those of the Master.  The Lord knows just what I need, an’ when I need it.  Hmmm, maybe that’s why my hair is still brown though my eyes have turned a paler blue from washing my face over the years.
    So, it’s time to head out.  Why, Pard, yuh left a swaller in yur cup.  My mercy, next yu’ll be forgettin’ to check yur cinch.
             

We made our fire, and we all had coffee and fried salt pork.  Coffee made me feel better.”
              –Robert Parker

Come on in, Pard, throw yur spurs under the table, whilst I pour us some coffee.  Ahhh, already had one cup, but been waitin’ for yuh, honest.  Take a sip while I tell yuh somethin’ that I figured out.  Now, get yurself ready for this–we are now witnessin’ the woke version of looney-tunes.  Yep, that’s a fact!  What finally made me come to the conclusion was this week, ol’ Joe Biden called Governor Abbott and us Texans “neanderthals” for demasking and gettin’ back to the common chores of the week.  (Remember, that has-been bureaucrat called us “deplorables” once).  Right after ol’ quick pen said that, he then released numerous migrants onto Texas soil, many with the virus.  Yep, now yuh tell me who’s deplorable!
    Add to that the complete stupidity of transgendering and all that goes with it, and remember, these are yur congress-persons who say with part of their forked tongue that science mandates masks and vaccines, yet with the other part of the forked tongue disregard science when it comes to biology in regard to male and female.  Yep, Pard, really woke!
    Go ahead, take yurself a deep swaller.  For sure, it’ll make yuh feel some better.  Now that we know we are livin’ in the midst of looney-tunes it makes the day seem brighter.  But poor ol’ Mr. Potato Head, and Dr. Seuss, but there yuh go, just part of the woke looney-tunes.  They’ve already barred several books and movies.  It seems that folk, the woke, just can’t handle reality.  I don’t know if they think they are living in “Never, Never Land” or in “Wonderland” with the Mad Hatter.
    One thing about reality, Pard, with the bureaucrats of the looney-tunes leadin’ this land, we are livin’ in it with them.  Lord, help us through the jungles!  Makes one focus on checkin’ his cinch.
     Vaya con Dios.

He got up and crossed to the fire, filling his cup at the pot.  The coffee was strong enough to stiffen the hair on a man’s neck, and hot enough to scald.  He tasted it, then put the cup down.”
              –Louis L’Amour (Matagorda)

Come in, Pard, coffee’s sure hot, watch it so it don’t burn the hair off’n yur tongue.  One thing I hate is a scalded tongue.  I remember once, up on Sugarloaf Mountain in the Front Range getting a Christmas tree that I scalded my tongue.  Thing is, if yur in the high country, if yuh let it set too long then it’ll get cold on yuh, and there’s nothing worse than cold coffee, unless it’s no coffee.
    Pard, yuh better cinch up tight.  Things are goin’ to start to buck with the way the bureaucrats at doin’ things.  It’s really hard to imagine the stupidity that is happenin’ right now.  No more Mr. Potato Head.  No more girls and boys sections of clothes in the stores.  Pard, yuh better be teachin’ yur younguns right or they’re goin’ to face a lot of confusion.  Persecution from idiots is preferred to confusion of the soul.
    I mean, Pard, some of the things they are sayin’ and doin’ are beyond absurd.  Think I’ll go out and buy some more shotgun shells and ca’tridges for the .44.  Evil times are not a-comin’ they are here.  Watch yur step out there for the snakes are everywhere ready to strike and fill yuh with their deadly poison.  I’ve never been a preservationist, always thought myself more of a conservationist, but now I reckon I’m a protectorvationist.  “Even so, Lord Jesus, come.”
    And, Pard, if’n He don’t come before yuh finish yur coffee and mount up, don’t be forgettin’ to check yur cinch.
    Vaya con Dios.