One day, our great-great-grandchildren will wonder what became of the cowboy. Why did he stop having barroom brawls and move to Williamsburg? Why did he suddenly think it was okay to wear spurs on the beach? What made him decide to trade in his trusty horse Shadow for a fixed-gear bicycle with no brakes? Tragically, our great-great-grandchildren will find no satisfactory answers to these questions. Instead, all they will be left with are faded images of those western heroes whose outfits their hipster great-great-grandparents cruelly appropriated in the interest of PBR-fueled orgies of ridiculousness. Shame, hipsters.








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