Greetings from the Apache Nation:
(Yes, children your Uncle JQP spent his Memorial Day with the native inhabitants of southeast Arizona. I was an eye opening experience.)
Some of the things I learned:
Indians don’t talk a lot.
They will agree with you just to get you to shut the fuck up.
Apaches are bad asses.
You would have to be a bad ass to live out there.
People wear cowboy hats outside of Texas.
Fuck, folks are poor down there.
Casinos really suck, especially if that’s the only place to eat and its German food night.
Apaches don’t do German food well.
Apache women are hot.
A big city is one with 8,000 people.
Mormons are everywhere.
If there are 8,000 people there will be 20 Mormon churches.
I want to club the next person in the head who says: “What pretty cactus”.
There are no radio stations down there.
I need to buy a Bowie knife.
There is just so much Indian Fry Bread a man can eat.
Tribal Cops smile a lot.
I paid only 2.90 a gallon for gas.
Now I must unpack and shake the sand out of my moccasins and start the London Broil in have had marinating since Sunday.
I remain, invisible but always present, much like the bed bugs at the Best Western I stayed at:
JQP esq.
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