Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The Dogs That Were Not There
Let's say you're in a far Western US town of semi-lawlessness and you lose a member of your posse in a sea of people the second the ball drops to ring in a new year. You can not find this person for hours. You worry they've been taken away by wild dogs, miners, or worse yet, the authorities. The best thing to do is wander into the corner bar, tip back a couple of cold ones, and order up the two lone weiners you see behind the bar glowing like God himself as they ride the hot dog ferris wheel to heaven. You'll hatch a plan. You'll find your man. Trust me on this one.