Texas, here I come…I hope that ginormous state is ready for me. I’m going to walk the cities, cheer the bucking broncos at the Houston rodeo, ride the bulls (or whatever else I find), buy myself a pair of cowgirl boots, wear braids and a ten-gallon hat. I’m going to eat BBQ, and dance my ass off at one of the gay dance clubs. I’m going to scout out a rare sex-toy store. I’ll sleep on a friend’s couch, and in an overpriced hotel bed with crisp white sheets. There’s a road trip in my future, screaming country songs that I don’t know the words to out the window. A night on a balcony with smoke and fire and drinks. A chance meeting in a Ft. Worth park.
But mostly there’s going to be me, in my jeans and my new cowgirl boots, strutting my stuff.
Texas, are you ready for me?
Kiss kiss bang bang, s.
“Some folks look at me and see a certain swagger, which in Texas is called ‘walking’.” ~George W. Bush