Cowboy Blob's Saloon and Shootin Gallery

I'm not a real Cowboy, but I play one in the movies.

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Meet Cindy

Seems this lady was just hitting the peace activist protest circuit to find a real man. Sadly, there were none to be found among the patchouli-reaking peaceniks she was rubbing elbows with. She popped into the indoor shooting range (to use the phone...cell signals were sucky in the neighborhood) and went crazy like a dachshund in heat. After a local SWAT cop fought the leg-humping lass off with a fire extinguisher (first bludgeoning, then spraying), she clamped her hand on my man-package and made furtive gestures towards the back room. Since my guns were across the room and I had no heavy objects handy, I was at her mercy. She frogmarched me to the back room and had my pants off faster than Michael Moore can inhale a Twinkie. And, ya know, it wasn't half bad. The room was dark, her head was down, and I could close my eyes and pretend she was Jane Fonda.

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