Oh, the tragedy! Because of those evil budget-cutting Republicans we are now facing the loss of that great cultural landmark, the Cowboy Poetry Festival. Thank you Senator Harry Reid for exposing this nefarious act with your bold attack upon the Republicans:
The mean-spirited bill, H.R. 1,, eliminates National Public Broadcasting…It eliminates the National Endowment of the Humanities, National Endowment of the Arts. These programs create jobs. The National Endowment of the Humanities is the reason we have in northern Nevada every January a cowboy poetry festival. Had that program not been around, the tens of thousands of people who come there every year would not exist.
And if the Cowboy Poetry Festival does not exist next year, then the world would be deprived of my brilliant piece of poetry designed to appeal to the NPR types. Since that festival’s future is now in doubt because of the heartless Republicans, your humble correspondent will post “Drugstore Cowboy” now before it is lost for all eternity:
I’m a Drugstore Cowboy and I’m mighty mean,
‘Cause I wear Gucci Boots,
And Designer Jeans.
Oh, I used to be a Disco Man,
With a body shirt,
And a deep, deep tan.
But I got bored with that Rhythmic Beat,
I had to find myself a brand new treat.
So I drove thru town in my Mercedes Benz,
And kept a sharp lookout for the latest trends.
‘Till I spotted a place called the Cowboy Saloon,
And heard a strange Western tune.
I shoved my way right thru the door,
And fell in love with the Cowboy Decor.
I chugged down Perrier until my guts were full,
Then hopped up on the saddle and rode the Mechanical Bull.
Set that switch at Number Eight,
Leave my Behind in the Hands of Fate.
Up and down that bull did soar,
Before I knew it…I was eating a piece of floor.
Keep those coins slidin’ thru that slot,
I’m gonna give this ol’ bull another shot,
‘Cause one of these days,
I don’t know when…
…I’ll be man enough to handle Number Ten.
