Joe West Does Us a Solid

Over the weekend most recent, you may have noticed a foul-smelling interloper in our midst. He is unwelcome. He is a boor. His ripping flatulence has despoiled the taffeta furnishings. We all wish he would go away and leave us to our base-ball.

You know, they call Joe West a cowboy because he is exactly that. For instance, upon discovering that this town was not big enough for both him and the dread cattle-rustler and claim-jumper Doomsday Beans-Doogan, he did away with Mr. Beans-Doogan. So we call upon you, Sire West, to please escort this mouth-breathing intruder off the premises …

Thank you, Joe West. Thank you.

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You’ve got your proportions backwards.