#saloon

I rode my horse to the saloon, but it was out of business. The cowboy I spoke with said the bartender served the saloon’s last drink on March 5th, 1882. Guess I shouldn’t have taken so long to shower and get ready. Ah, but that’s life, no?
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#bartender #cowboy #life #saloon #shower

I want to be a cowboy, but only long enough to barge into a saloon and bellow, "Who's the yellowbelly that stole my happy trail? ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#cowboy #funny #happy-trail #humor #saloon

With such luck as this, he rode the beast in the jaunty way that she deserved, back north, seemingly back from Mexico, pulling up finally at an outlying bar-ex-saloon (they had covered the old adobe face with knotty pine, substituted big stone matades for the cuspidors) and having brought her wrecklessly this far did not park her in the little parking lot but in front of the church next door. They had lifted that face too and neonized, but it did no good, they seemed to know they had no chance against an older god, their doors were closed. Thus one could join the pagan worshipers with a self-righteous shrug, through latticed doors. ↗

— Douglas Woolf

#church #religion #saloon #religion

If I had to live my life over, I'd live over a saloon. ↗

— W. C. Fields

#i #life #live #my life #over

There is no law, divine or human, that the saloon respects. ↗

— Billy Sunday

#human #law #respects #saloon