My back has eased up considerably, but I'm still moving Gingerly, which I guess means that I'm wearing a tight sequined dress and a poofy red wig. Dang, I knew we shouldn't have seen Brokeback Mountain. (Just a joke, we didn't see the movie. And I ain't wearing the dress.) I have more one-liners about the movie. Yippie-I-gay. Homo on the range. Howdy, domestic partner. Head West, young man. Dances With Boys. And, when you think about it, some Western things don't have to change a bit to have a little ring of gay to them. Lash LaRue. Riders of the Purple Sage. A Fistful of Dollars. True Grit. Gunslinger. Blazing Saddles. Wait, I'll be right back. Clint Eastwood and John Wayne's ghost are here to kick my ass.
How do I get off on stuff like that? It's like my fingers get possessed.
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