Confessions of a DUH-uh

Where have all the cowboys gone? Paula Cole is not the only one wondering this. I would love to know where all the cowboys have gone. I suspect somewhere remote, somewhere with a lot of horses, and somewhere with relatively lax gun laws. Montana springs to mind. Wyoming would also probably be a pretty safe bet. Did Paula Cole go to these places before writing her song? Did she do any research at all? The whole thing stinks like tanned leather.

I would like to pose a question: Why on earth was everyone so obsessed with that one "Soulja Boy" song? That song is fucking terrible. It sounds like it was recorded in my bathroom. Rap music today is essentially dead and hip-hop has degenerated into an Akon solo. Akon is one of the worst singers alive. He sounds like a dying loony tunes character, and yet he is featured in every song, and everyone under the age of 25 seems to love him. AKA every girl under the age of 25 seems to love him.

It is official. I have decided that there is no cure for the common hangover. I have tried just about everything, including getting vitamin B injected into my buttox in Costa Rica. This is no lie. My friend Neil and I did it. It cost about 2 dollars each and the cute older woman at the pharmacy led us into the back room where she made us lie face down on a padded table while sticking a syringe full of vitamin B into our butts. This made us feel awesome for awhile, but mostly made our butts hurt and made it hard to walk. Plus, right before she gave us the shots she explained the possible side effects: "Your urine might be red and you will have a slight metallic taste in your mouth." That is when my friend Scott backed out, turned off by the prospect of brightly colored pee. Then Neil and I stepped behind the curtain one by one to get liquid vitamin B injected into our buttox.
Like I said, it worked, but only for a few hours. Still, that is the closest I have ever come to ridding myself of a hangover you could sell to science (Bryson) through any method other than sleep and lots of water.
The problem for me is that I can't nap when I'm hungover, so I basically just spend the whole day wishing it was the next day, because sometimes when I'm hungover it is a chore for me to exist. Isn't that sad? It's tragic. My life is in shambles.
Have a great day!

- Boosh Clown