>>510298216
Texan here. During my morning walk I was passing the cattle yard when I overheard a few of my ranch hands discussing the election with one of the Old Buckaroos, Black Bart. Black Bart was watching the sunrise while sucking on some dip when he turned to face them with a glint in his eye. “Ya know, Oakland Kam ain’t so bad. Jobs ar’ up. ‘Flation goin’ down. I reckon she ain't such a soiled dove after all.”
I expected a snort, maybe even a guffaw. But as I watched their faces I saw smirks of approval. Cowpuncher Johnny Ringo was the first to speak. “Ya know, I wa’ thinkin’ tha same thing boss. Bout time ‘Merica had a Brat in Chief.” Before I knew the ranch hands they were whooping and hollering like Kansas City faggots, so loud Bessie the cook started clanging her pans together to get the boys to settle down. “Settle down y’all. November ain’t fer another few weeks. Now git in ‘ere n’ ‘ave some vittles.
Everybody was laughing, shaking hands, and clapping each other on the back. I swear, even the Angus cattle seemed to nodding their heads. The Rio Grande might be running deep red today, but you can bet your hat it runs blue come November.
