cowboys are really good guys depending on which way you look at it. Looking at the movie the good the bad and the ugly, one might have a different view of them though, But like anything in the workd there is the go
tipping his hat to the dust and wind, he ambles towards and ever retreating horizon, tinged with gold and fire, cooled by the encroaching stars. Spurs clink with every step, their tiny melody echoing into the emptiness of solitude and space.
the delighted cowboy sat down to drink some coffee. But he hated coffee why was he drinking? Oh yeah. He needed the jolt to stay awake. today he was going to herd a lot of cows or cattle he wasn’t sure which word he like best.
outdoor rugged man flashy guns with dirty boots trained to kill, trained to love. lives life on the edge. thinks like he acts
lives out of his backpack
is always on the move
the cowboy stood on his horse looking into the great distance that was once a plain full of buffalo. The plain was empty now, but he remembered the time it was full of beasts; small and large. The cowboy spurred his horse down the rocky cliff side towards the plain. The old horse skidded a few feet and came to a stop.
It is a man who is alone and in the desert, with cows all around him and who is able to be whatever he wants. there are no rules, only the elements apply. He is a heavy drinker, a man in solitude but with a strong sense of principles and moral, which he unfortunately does not apply to himself.
AS the cool air began to flow in the soft sound of rustling bushes mellowed the mood. all I had to think about now was which cowboy my father wanted me to be.
Yeehay the love of cowboys has seemed to diminish over the years . I never really liked them . they remind me too much of rednecks and the love to be nieve closed minded whatever. i never understoood why th
The wind howled across the top of canyon. At the bottom a boot crunched heavily upon the rocks and ragged vegetation. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked skyward. The sun was high in the sky beating straight down into the canyon.
man these people are everywhere in old culture. i say everywhere, i mean america. i say america, i mean old western films. dam, do these guys even exist? did they? i dont know, ive never seen one. but then, i’ve never seen a rhino, but i guess they’re real.
I think he used to some sorta cowboy. Younger then me but wrinkly kinda. Strong hands, meat and potatoes. I am a foodie. He’s serious. I’m seriously in love with him, I even started to listen to country music.
That’s like in That one movie, with cowboys in it. I like Cowboys! They are so cool! They are like.. midwest, but not really. I think I want to be a cowboy when I grow up. There is no reason to dislike them. I am not a cowboy, but have nothing against them. Is that good?
Standing outside. Waving goodbye. Let’s just forget about all that stuff. We all know that we could sit well with each other trapped in an elevator for 12 hours. Who cares that we are needy and emotionally damaged. We all are. Mental issues. We all have them. Going up?
back in the day he used to be cool.everyone wanted to be him.not everybody could.but not everybody wants to.take care of your goods.act straight up man.dont be a cowboy.
Recently I got tired of being an adult so I said I needed a pair of cowboy and Indian pajamas to help me get back in touch with my sense of play. To my utter delight, a pair of cowboy pajamas was locaed in my adult size and appeared under the Christmas tree. They look exactly like the cowboy pjs I had as a kid–except for one thing. No Indians.
I guess given our newly awakened sensitivities about racial stereotyping, this is a good thing. If there were Indians on my pajamas they would be savage blood thirsty wagon train attacking scalp stealers. And that’s not only historically inaccurate, it’s wrong morally.
Still, I miss them, the horses, the bows and arrows, the tipis, the line of Indians on the top of the mesa scaring the beejeezus out of those wagoneers. The first time I went out west, I got those cowboy/indian movies in a while new way, the way the landscape itself makes you feel small and vulnerable to attack. I went home and rented a bunch of westerns, and felt I really saw them for the first time.
Anyway, I am loving the pajamas. They got me through the winter’s sadness with a jauntiness that has not been part of my for a long time. Next year, I want rocket ships.
I once knew a cowboy who had great arms. He was strong in so many ways, but the way he could walk at a face pace and seem to cover a mile was most impressive. He also had a humor so dry it was like the summer heat in August.
Oh I should have been a cowboy or whatever yeah right I should never be a cowboy or girl. I mean I’m not so good on horses they scare me a little. I have been riding a few times and enjoyed it, but I don’t think I could do it on my own. My mom once went to a dude ranch with my sister and she rode a horse there.
Come home. I see you’re busy managing the animals, but I need you here at home with me. Let’s not fight tonight. Let’s just make sweet love in front of the fire in our little love cabin up here in the hills.
i’ve never seen a movie with bloack cowboys. but there’s not a lot you can get on beta in nigeria (or wasn’t in the eighties) so we watched alota musicals and westerns – i became enamored of yul brenner, perhaps it was his unplaceable traits, olive tone and odd accent
Cowboy? Ahahaaha. Awesome. This is going to be ridiculous. Actually, I don’t have enough time. And all I can think of is a cowboy riding up to a town and getting off his horse. He’s a ridiculous stereotype though, ten gallon hat and spurs and a mustache. Gunslingers are cooler than cowboys.
There was a man that captured my heart, blonde, stubby cheecks and alluring eyes.. the cowboy.. he was called by those who knew him. He would ride into town on his black stallion and time would stand still for me.
A cowboy wants to ride. He pines for the muscular equine to be between his legs, pulsating. The thought of the wind in his hair and the smell of the horse almost overpower him. Almost. But this is not the time or place for that.
brown leather chaps, painted by the earth’s dust, hat hanging low, mysterios, eyes cleverly peeking out, stick of hay hanging from the bottom lip, oh if only they would kiss me
cowboys are not a thing of the past. The modern cowboy is very real. He likes to get drunk in the woods and make a lot of noise. He likes to drive down the interstate strung out on speed.
I am not a cowboy. I saw a movie once and there were three. There is another one where there are gay cowboys. They live in the west, rope cattle, and eat lots of meat. I sometimes see them bathing in the river. They frequently ride horses. They live on ranched.
home home on the range – man I wish I was a cowboy! Even though I always used to want to be the Indian when we played as kids – but the six-shooters were a bit cooler than the bows and arrows. It all used to seem so romantic – you know, eating beans around the campfire and stuff.
Blocked bastion of male greatness. The vast unknown filled with all kinds of stereotypes misinterpreted over the centuries and turned into commercial by product. A dream life. The one we wish we could live but is impossible in the world we live in. Hope and freedom. Endless Freedom. Endless sky.
Why aren’t I a cowboy? Because I don’t really get on too well with cows and I don’t live in America and I haven’t got a big hat and spurs and chaps. I do like baked beans and I know a couple of cowboy songs that my Mum taught me so I could be a cowboy…
a man who never works with another, a lonely boy dreaming to find someday a woman to understand him ….sometimes sad smetimes happy he is never seen in other places than ranch, wild and bar …he is unable t really love
Cowboys are mainly found in the southern side of the United States. When I think about cowboys, it reminds me of the football team in Dallas. I imagine cowboys sitting on top of a horse yelling “howdy” and swinging their rope in the air.
cowboys are not real. They used to be, but then people stopped caring. I can’t wait until everything else becomes insignificant, like “lawyer” and “executive.”
I want to be a couwboy. I’m a western hero in disguise. I’m going west to explore the western hero archetype and its effect on the american psyche and frontier mentality. I got new cowboy boots for a dollar and they are so sweet…. 1$. That is what I call a bargain.
I’m John Wayne in the recreations of the western hero stuff Kristin and I are going to do. She is Clint. It makes sense. I was raised on Rio Bravo and true grit…
cowboys are really good guys depending on which way you look at it. Looking at the movie the good the bad and the ugly, one might have a different view of them though, But like anything in the workd there is the go
tipping his hat to the dust and wind, he ambles towards and ever retreating horizon, tinged with gold and fire, cooled by the encroaching stars. Spurs clink with every step, their tiny melody echoing into the emptiness of solitude and space.
he walked through the saloon doors, gun in hand and hat tipped slightly over his left eye.
The room fell silent, the barman paused before quickly reaching for a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey.
footsteps echoed
not a cowgirl…chaps, lassos, campfires and bad coffee…dirty, dirty and dirtier…boots…hats..country songs…don’t let your sons grow up to be….cowboys.
the delighted cowboy sat down to drink some coffee. But he hated coffee why was he drinking? Oh yeah. He needed the jolt to stay awake. today he was going to herd a lot of cows or cattle he wasn’t sure which word he like best.
outdoor rugged man flashy guns with dirty boots trained to kill, trained to love. lives life on the edge. thinks like he acts
lives out of his backpack
is always on the move
the cowboy stood on his horse looking into the great distance that was once a plain full of buffalo. The plain was empty now, but he remembered the time it was full of beasts; small and large. The cowboy spurred his horse down the rocky cliff side towards the plain. The old horse skidded a few feet and came to a stop.
It is a man who is alone and in the desert, with cows all around him and who is able to be whatever he wants. there are no rules, only the elements apply. He is a heavy drinker, a man in solitude but with a strong sense of principles and moral, which he unfortunately does not apply to himself.
He moved to his horse, hat in hand as he looked up to the sky. His eyes glittered with amusement as he decided that yes, today would be a good day.
AS the cool air began to flow in the soft sound of rustling bushes mellowed the mood. all I had to think about now was which cowboy my father wanted me to be.
Yeehay the love of cowboys has seemed to diminish over the years . I never really liked them . they remind me too much of rednecks and the love to be nieve closed minded whatever. i never understoood why th
The wind howled across the top of canyon. At the bottom a boot crunched heavily upon the rocks and ragged vegetation. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked skyward. The sun was high in the sky beating straight down into the canyon.
man these people are everywhere in old culture. i say everywhere, i mean america. i say america, i mean old western films. dam, do these guys even exist? did they? i dont know, ive never seen one. but then, i’ve never seen a rhino, but i guess they’re real.
Uh oh.
yehaw horse rideing boot wearing spers chaps rugged dirty cowboy hats range rustling up yonder
People should be strong to be cowboy.
I think he used to some sorta cowboy. Younger then me but wrinkly kinda. Strong hands, meat and potatoes. I am a foodie. He’s serious. I’m seriously in love with him, I even started to listen to country music.
That’s like in That one movie, with cowboys in it. I like Cowboys! They are so cool! They are like.. midwest, but not really. I think I want to be a cowboy when I grow up. There is no reason to dislike them. I am not a cowboy, but have nothing against them. Is that good?
Standing outside. Waving goodbye. Let’s just forget about all that stuff. We all know that we could sit well with each other trapped in an elevator for 12 hours. Who cares that we are needy and emotionally damaged. We all are. Mental issues. We all have them. Going up?
back in the day he used to be cool.everyone wanted to be him.not everybody could.but not everybody wants to.take care of your goods.act straight up man.dont be a cowboy.
Recently I got tired of being an adult so I said I needed a pair of cowboy and Indian pajamas to help me get back in touch with my sense of play. To my utter delight, a pair of cowboy pajamas was locaed in my adult size and appeared under the Christmas tree. They look exactly like the cowboy pjs I had as a kid–except for one thing. No Indians.
I guess given our newly awakened sensitivities about racial stereotyping, this is a good thing. If there were Indians on my pajamas they would be savage blood thirsty wagon train attacking scalp stealers. And that’s not only historically inaccurate, it’s wrong morally.
Still, I miss them, the horses, the bows and arrows, the tipis, the line of Indians on the top of the mesa scaring the beejeezus out of those wagoneers. The first time I went out west, I got those cowboy/indian movies in a while new way, the way the landscape itself makes you feel small and vulnerable to attack. I went home and rented a bunch of westerns, and felt I really saw them for the first time.
Anyway, I am loving the pajamas. They got me through the winter’s sadness with a jauntiness that has not been part of my for a long time. Next year, I want rocket ships.
I once knew a cowboy who had great arms. He was strong in so many ways, but the way he could walk at a face pace and seem to cover a mile was most impressive. He also had a humor so dry it was like the summer heat in August.
Oh I should have been a cowboy or whatever yeah right I should never be a cowboy or girl. I mean I’m not so good on horses they scare me a little. I have been riding a few times and enjoyed it, but I don’t think I could do it on my own. My mom once went to a dude ranch with my sister and she rode a horse there.
I was going to go to the dog pound in Tacoma to take a look at a dog advertised on their website named “cowboy”. He’s just a pup of about 8 months.
Come home. I see you’re busy managing the animals, but I need you here at home with me. Let’s not fight tonight. Let’s just make sweet love in front of the fire in our little love cabin up here in the hills.
i’ve never seen a movie with bloack cowboys. but there’s not a lot you can get on beta in nigeria (or wasn’t in the eighties) so we watched alota musicals and westerns – i became enamored of yul brenner, perhaps it was his unplaceable traits, olive tone and odd accent
Cowboy? Ahahaaha. Awesome. This is going to be ridiculous. Actually, I don’t have enough time. And all I can think of is a cowboy riding up to a town and getting off his horse. He’s a ridiculous stereotype though, ten gallon hat and spurs and a mustache. Gunslingers are cooler than cowboys.
There was a man that captured my heart, blonde, stubby cheecks and alluring eyes.. the cowboy.. he was called by those who knew him. He would ride into town on his black stallion and time would stand still for me.
A cowboy wants to ride. He pines for the muscular equine to be between his legs, pulsating. The thought of the wind in his hair and the smell of the horse almost overpower him. Almost. But this is not the time or place for that.
brown leather chaps, painted by the earth’s dust, hat hanging low, mysterios, eyes cleverly peeking out, stick of hay hanging from the bottom lip, oh if only they would kiss me
cowboys are not a thing of the past. The modern cowboy is very real. He likes to get drunk in the woods and make a lot of noise. He likes to drive down the interstate strung out on speed.
I am not a cowboy. I saw a movie once and there were three. There is another one where there are gay cowboys. They live in the west, rope cattle, and eat lots of meat. I sometimes see them bathing in the river. They frequently ride horses. They live on ranched.
home home on the range – man I wish I was a cowboy! Even though I always used to want to be the Indian when we played as kids – but the six-shooters were a bit cooler than the bows and arrows. It all used to seem so romantic – you know, eating beans around the campfire and stuff.
A mid-western man who runs around in funky clothes and screams “YEHAWH” while shooting people and riding horses. Get a lil donkeyyyy.
Blocked bastion of male greatness. The vast unknown filled with all kinds of stereotypes misinterpreted over the centuries and turned into commercial by product. A dream life. The one we wish we could live but is impossible in the world we live in. Hope and freedom. Endless Freedom. Endless sky.
Why aren’t I a cowboy? Because I don’t really get on too well with cows and I don’t live in America and I haven’t got a big hat and spurs and chaps. I do like baked beans and I know a couple of cowboy songs that my Mum taught me so I could be a cowboy…
Wears big hats way out west. Wears spurs that jingle jangle. Rides horses. Eats beef. Loves the rodeo. Macho. Tough.
a man who never works with another, a lonely boy dreaming to find someday a woman to understand him ….sometimes sad smetimes happy he is never seen in other places than ranch, wild and bar …he is unable t really love
Cowboys are mainly found in the southern side of the United States. When I think about cowboys, it reminds me of the football team in Dallas. I imagine cowboys sitting on top of a horse yelling “howdy” and swinging their rope in the air.
cowboys are not real. They used to be, but then people stopped caring. I can’t wait until everything else becomes insignificant, like “lawyer” and “executive.”
I want to be a couwboy. I’m a western hero in disguise. I’m going west to explore the western hero archetype and its effect on the american psyche and frontier mentality. I got new cowboy boots for a dollar and they are so sweet…. 1$. That is what I call a bargain.
I’m John Wayne in the recreations of the western hero stuff Kristin and I are going to do. She is Clint. It makes sense. I was raised on Rio Bravo and true grit…