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.