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Fishy tale
Well, besides travel I've been doing some finishing work on my manuscript. Resubmitted Chapter 7 to the editor. These past few days I've been preparing some magazine articles which will be excerpts to help generate interest in the book. Hence my long absence. So, here's the rambling anecdote that should bring a smile across your face. Enjoy.
"Sergeant Pruitt... was an old cowboy from Arizona - looked line one too, acted like one, talked like one. But he was no hillbilly in the head. Pruitt was the talking kind. He talked and sang on the slightest provocation. He liked old cowboy songs. He liked to tell stories about cowpokes in Arizona. He told one day about an old cowboy who went to the city and registered at a hotel for the first time in his life. The clerk asked if he wanted a room with running water, and the cowboy yelled, 'Hell no! What do you think I am, a trout?'"
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Vigilantibus et non dormientibus jura subveniunt. Molon Labe!
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