Bury These Guys on the Lone Prairie

Hopalong Cassidy and Ward Bond didn't shoot near enough Indians. There's still a bunch over at Grand Ronde, in Oregon, that need shooting. These are the ones that got a casino that us white-eyes visited yesterday.

Damn! If'n I was John Wayne I'd burn down their teepees (except they're all living in four-bedroom condos with maid service). I'd lead 'em to Badwater in Death Valley (except they got sweet water from the Yamhill River). I'd force-feed 'em firewater (except they don't allow that on the reservation anymore on account of they always wind up on the 12-Step).

I'd bury 'em up to their necks in anthills and slather 'em with honey. I'd run a herd of buffalo through their Wounded Knee & Barbecue Observance Picnic. I would run off their horses -- especially their 500-horsepower Lamborghinis and Ferraris.

You probably have figured out why I am so tight-up. I lost $8 at the Spirit Mountain Casino yesterday. Now for the rest of the month I'll have to shine my own damn shoes.

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I guess I forgot to tell you that Carolina Sister was on the bus that took us to
Spirit Mountain. She also lost, but she didn't care. She bought Google at $85 and it's now $300.

"You know, Hoss," she said, "gambling is a gamble. I wouldn't recommend it for poor people like you."

Boy that pissed me off. Has anybody got revenge for the Custer thing yet?

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My barber is really hard of hearing. The other day, I'm in his shop and for conversation I say, "I see Willamette University has got a rowing crew. I wonder what the kids have to weigh to make the cut." Guess what kind of trim he gave me.

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My favorite word today is internutted. n., microsoftese. Def.: The blinking at the bottom of the screen that tells you the Internet is working very hard on your problem and is not intending to connect you, but wants you to know how difficult this is.