When I think cowboy I think of Toy Story, with the little rag doll cowboys and that kind of stuff. It is just that I have that hard wired in my brain since i was a little kid.
I love to watch cowboy movies like John Wayne and others. There is so much action and adventure. I also like to play cowboy video games. Thows are fun too.
cowboy builders. Know all about them. who doesn’t? those guys who arrive and leave for bits they have to buy and then don’t come back for another week. but why cowboys? what did cowboys ever do thats remotely like crap builders?
Cowboys – the marlborough man, john wayne, the great stagecoach robbery, spurs, cactus, clint eastwood, rodeos, the ok corral, jesse james, wyatt earp, sheriffs, rustlers – what a lot the word cowboy conjures in the american mind – part of our psyche that will endure for its romance rather than the true hardships, part of our growing up, part of who we are an will be
the cowboy’s on the moon. I looked at him, and the cowboy smiled down at me, playing with his acoustic. The horse was sitting comfortably next to him as he played an old western toon – even the grass seemed to be quiet with him around .
Rifle slung over his shoulder, big six gun on his hip, the Ranger rode through the desert searching for the man in black. The trail had led him far across the country, miles and months he traveled. Soon he would find his father and redeem his family’s name.
i remember my mother telling me about rides through the desert with her father. he would drink beer while they bumped through the dusty, waking desert. later he might get angry and send her to her room, crying. i think mom turned out to be the true cowboy, of the two.
The Marlboro man was a cowboy and what a beautiful, cigerette smoking man he was. I miss him. I often gazed at the billboards and wished he was my boyfriend. Apparently, he did. Of lung cancer. Shocker, eh? Oh well, whatcha gonna do?
The two stars of Brokeback Mountain were cowboys, gay ones. I’ve never seen that fil, but I’ve heard it’s good, but I;m not really into watching that sort of thing…
The Marlboro man was a cowdoy and what a beautiful, cigerette smoking man he was. I miss him. I often gazed at the billboards and wished he was my boyfriend. Aparrently, he did. Of lung cancer. Shocker, eh? Oh well, whatcha gonna do?
The lonesome cowboy slowly meandered into town. Its been months since he had left, now to return after dealing with the herd. Supplies and a quick drink and back to the trail he returns.
cowboys face a hard life. theirs is an existance full of trials. they work all seasons and do hard physical labour all their working days. they are featured in many films
Riding out in the open of the wild west, Jim looks around and spots more cowboys riding in the distance. “When will i be accepted, i’m just as good as they are.” He thinks sadly. Grabbing the reins of his horse, he starts his slow tread toward them.
cowboys are a waste of space in society because all they do is parade about how great and manly they are. they are not manly at all as they only pick on animals and write on top of other bigger animals to prove their egos. Cowboys are kind of annoying and i hate them. I wish cowboys would stop being jerks!
“Hey, hey, I’m a cowboy!” That was one of my favorite Far Side comics with the vultures. Something morbidly funny about it.When life is tragic, what else can you do but laugh? Laugh at the recession, laugh at the Tea Partiers, laugh at tsunamis, laugh at cholera… then again, maybe not. *cry*
The dust and flies hung heavy in the air, Mandy knew she was out of her comfort zone, but this was the moment she had waited all her life for, today she would meet the cowboy.
Cowboys are notoriously homosexual vagabonds as was depicted in the movie Brokeback Mountain and anything with John Wayne in. They were known to use their 6 shooters as sex toys and more than one cowboy was killed after ‘letting his gun go off early’. They were disliked by most of society, even the Indians!!
I don’t really like cowboys. They frighten me, just like clowns do. I think of farms, villages, ugly hats, dumb people, Broadback Mountain movie = gay! Definately NOT sexy.
He sat there, watching the comet fleet across each sky and wondered he’ll ride to which sunset. Am I ready to leave her? He wandered, he was, in fact ready, commitment made him fear all day long
Cowboy ride boy rude boy, desert living in the knees of the crazines boy does he like cows do they moo or remain silent cowing down the chow that I see from day to day tabaski is around the corner time to gut them cut them up I mean and eat some lean meat more to fill our fatty meat.
About a year ago my iPod playlist stumbled upon the only country song that had unintentionally made it to my iPod. Not my usual genre. But as the stereotypical associations flooded my mind, and, as I had just took part in an activity that left me relaxed and open to new ideas, I realized, at 17, I was already closing my mind to different existences of things out there. I let my mind go with the music, and fell in love with a cowboy.
The cowboy stooped down to pick up his hat. The wind blew across the plain, the green grass seeming to tilt to one side. He looked around and spotted the lost mare. He quickly ran towards the horse, afraid that it would start running again. They didn’t have all day. The bandits were soon to come, as nightfall was approaching. It whinneyed, but allowed itself to be lead back to the herd. He patted its back and got a hold of the reign. “Good Girl,” he said.
Cowboy? Really? Still? Well anyways. Cowboy. A cow and a boy. They were friends and often walked around the park, the cow grazing the soft tufts of grass as the boy skipped rocks and watched his little friend get settled in.
That belt buckle my papa has was so great. For some reason I can’t remember what is on it, but I will fabricate that it has stags and turquoise on it. What a lovely, lovely buckle. I wonder why he never wears it anymore.
ya allah, semoga bapa sembuh, semoga sekolah saya sukses, semoga keluarga saya ngga terpecah lagi, semoga saya jadi orang, semoga saya awet sama afie, semoga saya tetap bersama sahabat dan teman-teman saya, semoga saya bisa jadi contoh adik-adik saya, aamiin
Er hat Stiefel an und ein Pferd unterm Po, er trinkt rauchenden Kaffee und er raucht, Marlboro gab es damals noch nicht, dafür Weite und Sommer und immer wieder Mücken, die ihm die Nacht zur Plage machten, trotz rauchendem Feuer und ich frage mich, ob der Dativ hier richtig ist.
(LOL I spent more than one minute on this, clearly, but I couldn’t stop.)
Commander Lyle Rourke belonged somewhere else. High society was never really his real element, though he could smile and wave and charm as well as the rest. His place was out in the field, living adventure after adventure. He was used to the rough and tough life on an expedition.
But his current company? Inside and out, they were as fragile as the crystal glasses they sipped from. The rouged-red women and the haughtily adorned men sat in straight lines; they nodded and winked and mimed conversations at each other from across the decorated table. Empty conversations, of course. Oh, yes, they’d spout some nonesuch about this trip or this discovery, but that didn’t matter much. How many of them had slept under a worn canvas tent instead of in their own cozy beds, much less during the darkest nights in the most distant of lands? It was all garbage, and that was all part of the fancy dinner ritual: always prim and always proper, even when nothing they said mattered. He didn’t have much of a taste for it at all.
But that was perfectly all right. Rourke liked to think he was a very versatile man. As well as a mercenary and a soldier, he was a damned good actor, too. Dinners like these were a stage he knew well. And as for his audience?
Easy game.
He brushed a speck off his suit and nodded to his lieutenant, who sat next to him and immediately raised her eyes. There was a flash of knowing between them when their gazes met.
“I think it’s about time for the main program to begin, don’t you, Lieutenant?” he asked, swirling red wine in his glass.
Lieutenant Sinclair smirked. “I’m ready to raise the curtains when you are.”
“Well, then. On with the show.”
Clink, clink, clink–Rourke tapped at his glass with a fork, then rose.
“Ladies and gentlemen–”
Loose checkbooks and opened wallets–
“I have a /proposition/ that I would like to make.”
i think that a cowboy is in the old west
is is hard to find one these days and they are all brown the have ugly hats like my friends and that their boots are also ugly i think that we all should be cowboy from the wild west and have many things that we should do about them.oh yeah. that is the best and i remember the old days being cool. i still remember will smith being in one of the movies the wild west it was pretty awesome even though i never saw it . shiiet omg i cant believe im tying like this.
I wish the days of cowboy justice still existed, or at least were considered appropriate. because if they were, I’d ride into Hickory North Carolina and string them both up. But thats not what she would want is it? She would want us to give forgiveness, because she’s a better person than we can ever hope to be.
the horse found a cowboy and they ride the night away. they came to a ghost town and no one to be found. They heard a noise. The cowboy found a rifle sitting on a ledge.
There was once a cowboy named Hernando. He lived by himself in a ramshackle cottage in the middle of nowhere. In his free time, he liked to watch the sunrise. The most unfortunate thing about Hernando was that he was afraid to fire a gun. A bit hard to be a cowboy without firing a gun, eh? But still, he enjoyed his life, he just waved the gun around, and let his comrades do the firing.
“Who the hell do you think you are, some kind of Irish cowboy?” She threw his clothes, gathered from a cluttered bedroom floor, on the ground and grit her teeth. “We. need. you.”
“Jesus, it’s only the traveling, Mary, nothing more. No girls or anything like that.” Colins voice had gone weak.
“You can’t be playing like a rover anymore,” she snapped. “Stop riding your horses around, we’ve a farm to run and you’re not a little boy no more.”
When I think cowboy I think of Toy Story, with the little rag doll cowboys and that kind of stuff. It is just that I have that hard wired in my brain since i was a little kid.
I love to watch cowboy movies like John Wayne and others. There is so much action and adventure. I also like to play cowboy video games. Thows are fun too.
cowboy builders. Know all about them. who doesn’t? those guys who arrive and leave for bits they have to buy and then don’t come back for another week. but why cowboys? what did cowboys ever do thats remotely like crap builders?
The cowboy loved his horse and then it passed away. Now he’s lonely and spends his nights drinking, hoping someday he’ll find companionship again.
Cowboys – the marlborough man, john wayne, the great stagecoach robbery, spurs, cactus, clint eastwood, rodeos, the ok corral, jesse james, wyatt earp, sheriffs, rustlers – what a lot the word cowboy conjures in the american mind – part of our psyche that will endure for its romance rather than the true hardships, part of our growing up, part of who we are an will be
it’s the majestic creamsicle sky
the flowing wheat grass
and the powerful mass benith you
wind through your hair
and straw through your teeth
the cowboy’s on the moon. I looked at him, and the cowboy smiled down at me, playing with his acoustic. The horse was sitting comfortably next to him as he played an old western toon – even the grass seemed to be quiet with him around .
Rifle slung over his shoulder, big six gun on his hip, the Ranger rode through the desert searching for the man in black. The trail had led him far across the country, miles and months he traveled. Soon he would find his father and redeem his family’s name.
free fun loving people that love to round up cattle out in the west. dying generation of people sort of like our u.s. version of japanese samurai.
i remember my mother telling me about rides through the desert with her father. he would drink beer while they bumped through the dusty, waking desert. later he might get angry and send her to her room, crying. i think mom turned out to be the true cowboy, of the two.
The Marlboro man was a cowboy and what a beautiful, cigerette smoking man he was. I miss him. I often gazed at the billboards and wished he was my boyfriend. Apparently, he did. Of lung cancer. Shocker, eh? Oh well, whatcha gonna do?
The two stars of Brokeback Mountain were cowboys, gay ones. I’ve never seen that fil, but I’ve heard it’s good, but I;m not really into watching that sort of thing…
The Marlboro man was a cowdoy and what a beautiful, cigerette smoking man he was. I miss him. I often gazed at the billboards and wished he was my boyfriend. Aparrently, he did. Of lung cancer. Shocker, eh? Oh well, whatcha gonna do?
The lonesome cowboy slowly meandered into town. Its been months since he had left, now to return after dealing with the herd. Supplies and a quick drink and back to the trail he returns.
cowboys face a hard life. theirs is an existance full of trials. they work all seasons and do hard physical labour all their working days. they are featured in many films
Riding out in the open of the wild west, Jim looks around and spots more cowboys riding in the distance. “When will i be accepted, i’m just as good as they are.” He thinks sadly. Grabbing the reins of his horse, he starts his slow tread toward them.
cowboys are a waste of space in society because all they do is parade about how great and manly they are. they are not manly at all as they only pick on animals and write on top of other bigger animals to prove their egos. Cowboys are kind of annoying and i hate them. I wish cowboys would stop being jerks!
“Hey, hey, I’m a cowboy!” That was one of my favorite Far Side comics with the vultures. Something morbidly funny about it.When life is tragic, what else can you do but laugh? Laugh at the recession, laugh at the Tea Partiers, laugh at tsunamis, laugh at cholera… then again, maybe not. *cry*
yeehaw ride hard and deep thrust and rope break that back come over the hump of the mountain
The dust and flies hung heavy in the air, Mandy knew she was out of her comfort zone, but this was the moment she had waited all her life for, today she would meet the cowboy.
Cowboys are notoriously homosexual vagabonds as was depicted in the movie Brokeback Mountain and anything with John Wayne in. They were known to use their 6 shooters as sex toys and more than one cowboy was killed after ‘letting his gun go off early’. They were disliked by most of society, even the Indians!!
I don’t really like cowboys. They frighten me, just like clowns do. I think of farms, villages, ugly hats, dumb people, Broadback Mountain movie = gay! Definately NOT sexy.
He sat there, watching the comet fleet across each sky and wondered he’ll ride to which sunset. Am I ready to leave her? He wandered, he was, in fact ready, commitment made him fear all day long
Cowboy ride boy rude boy, desert living in the knees of the crazines boy does he like cows do they moo or remain silent cowing down the chow that I see from day to day tabaski is around the corner time to gut them cut them up I mean and eat some lean meat more to fill our fatty meat.
Sitting on a horse, trapesing through the hot, dry desert,this guy is as about as lonely as them come. He sings and laments his situation. Poor guy.
About a year ago my iPod playlist stumbled upon the only country song that had unintentionally made it to my iPod. Not my usual genre. But as the stereotypical associations flooded my mind, and, as I had just took part in an activity that left me relaxed and open to new ideas, I realized, at 17, I was already closing my mind to different existences of things out there. I let my mind go with the music, and fell in love with a cowboy.
The cowboy stooped down to pick up his hat. The wind blew across the plain, the green grass seeming to tilt to one side. He looked around and spotted the lost mare. He quickly ran towards the horse, afraid that it would start running again. They didn’t have all day. The bandits were soon to come, as nightfall was approaching. It whinneyed, but allowed itself to be lead back to the herd. He patted its back and got a hold of the reign. “Good Girl,” he said.
one
Cowboy? Really? Still? Well anyways. Cowboy. A cow and a boy. They were friends and often walked around the park, the cow grazing the soft tufts of grass as the boy skipped rocks and watched his little friend get settled in.
“Giddy up” she said,
It was the name of a mixed tape,
She made in high school.
That belt buckle my papa has was so great. For some reason I can’t remember what is on it, but I will fabricate that it has stags and turquoise on it. What a lovely, lovely buckle. I wonder why he never wears it anymore.
ya allah, semoga bapa sembuh, semoga sekolah saya sukses, semoga keluarga saya ngga terpecah lagi, semoga saya jadi orang, semoga saya awet sama afie, semoga saya tetap bersama sahabat dan teman-teman saya, semoga saya bisa jadi contoh adik-adik saya, aamiin
Er hat Stiefel an und ein Pferd unterm Po, er trinkt rauchenden Kaffee und er raucht, Marlboro gab es damals noch nicht, dafür Weite und Sommer und immer wieder Mücken, die ihm die Nacht zur Plage machten, trotz rauchendem Feuer und ich frage mich, ob der Dativ hier richtig ist.
(LOL I spent more than one minute on this, clearly, but I couldn’t stop.)
Commander Lyle Rourke belonged somewhere else. High society was never really his real element, though he could smile and wave and charm as well as the rest. His place was out in the field, living adventure after adventure. He was used to the rough and tough life on an expedition.
But his current company? Inside and out, they were as fragile as the crystal glasses they sipped from. The rouged-red women and the haughtily adorned men sat in straight lines; they nodded and winked and mimed conversations at each other from across the decorated table. Empty conversations, of course. Oh, yes, they’d spout some nonesuch about this trip or this discovery, but that didn’t matter much. How many of them had slept under a worn canvas tent instead of in their own cozy beds, much less during the darkest nights in the most distant of lands? It was all garbage, and that was all part of the fancy dinner ritual: always prim and always proper, even when nothing they said mattered. He didn’t have much of a taste for it at all.
But that was perfectly all right. Rourke liked to think he was a very versatile man. As well as a mercenary and a soldier, he was a damned good actor, too. Dinners like these were a stage he knew well. And as for his audience?
Easy game.
He brushed a speck off his suit and nodded to his lieutenant, who sat next to him and immediately raised her eyes. There was a flash of knowing between them when their gazes met.
“I think it’s about time for the main program to begin, don’t you, Lieutenant?” he asked, swirling red wine in his glass.
Lieutenant Sinclair smirked. “I’m ready to raise the curtains when you are.”
“Well, then. On with the show.”
Clink, clink, clink–Rourke tapped at his glass with a fork, then rose.
“Ladies and gentlemen–”
Loose checkbooks and opened wallets–
“I have a /proposition/ that I would like to make.”
i think that a cowboy is in the old west
is is hard to find one these days and they are all brown the have ugly hats like my friends and that their boots are also ugly i think that we all should be cowboy from the wild west and have many things that we should do about them.oh yeah. that is the best and i remember the old days being cool. i still remember will smith being in one of the movies the wild west it was pretty awesome even though i never saw it . shiiet omg i cant believe im tying like this.
I wish the days of cowboy justice still existed, or at least were considered appropriate. because if they were, I’d ride into Hickory North Carolina and string them both up. But thats not what she would want is it? She would want us to give forgiveness, because she’s a better person than we can ever hope to be.
the horse found a cowboy and they ride the night away. they came to a ghost town and no one to be found. They heard a noise. The cowboy found a rifle sitting on a ledge.
There was once a cowboy named Hernando. He lived by himself in a ramshackle cottage in the middle of nowhere. In his free time, he liked to watch the sunrise. The most unfortunate thing about Hernando was that he was afraid to fire a gun. A bit hard to be a cowboy without firing a gun, eh? But still, he enjoyed his life, he just waved the gun around, and let his comrades do the firing.
Cowboy. A cowboy hat. A bar. Tall boots. Guns. Hee haw! Why do I always relate a cowboy with a donkey? Hmm.
this word reminds me of:
discovery
freedom
flirtatiousness
bravery
tough
hard worker
studs
family
cornbread
unknown
love
“Who the hell do you think you are, some kind of Irish cowboy?” She threw his clothes, gathered from a cluttered bedroom floor, on the ground and grit her teeth. “We. need. you.”
“Jesus, it’s only the traveling, Mary, nothing more. No girls or anything like that.” Colins voice had gone weak.
“You can’t be playing like a rover anymore,” she snapped. “Stop riding your horses around, we’ve a farm to run and you’re not a little boy no more.”