Ghost Town Renegades... Give the Past a Slip

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Ghost Town Renegades: 5 out of 10: Though I am familiar with the name Lash La Rue (King of the Bullwhip), this is my first encounter with cowboy’s body of work. According to critics, this is one of La Rue’s strongest pictures… Oh dear…

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First let us get the obvious out of the way… did men of the fifties really let their kids dress up as Lash La Rue complete with bullwhip? Now I admit Lash, dressed all in black and sounding more Bogart than Bacall, is certainly no gay blade. In addition, he clearly knows his way around a horse as well as his trademark bullwhip. But still Lash La Rue??? {IMDB has his last name as La Rue (two words) while Ghost Town Renegades credits and other sources have his last name LaRue (one word).} Ghost Town Renegades has some decent if low-key action and the plot, while out of an old Scooby-Doo episode, is somewhat logical and easy to follow. (Up until Lash pretends to double-cross someone forgetting to let his allies in on the gag for no other reason than to add fifteen minutes to the film, one might suspect this kind of merry mix-up from a Three’s Company episode.) As for the supporting cast… well female lead Jennifer Holt is ridiculously good looking. She does not really do much but hey why look an eye-candy gift horse in the mouth. (Especially in a film filled with real horses.) Speaking of ridiculous… Lash has a wizened old sidekick “Fuzzy” played by toothless veteran actor Al St. John. Now St John is the nephew of Fatty Arbuckle and played the character Fuzzy in more than 80 Westerns. Therefore, needless to say, it was a popular character. Ghost Town Renegades is considered one of St. John’s strongest performances. Oh Dear…

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Maybe it is I but the comedy of Fuzzy has not seemed to travel the decades intact. Jokes a five-year old on Soma could come up with combined with pratfalls a five-year old on Ritalin might perform. I guess his target audience (five year olds and surprisingly enough per Wikipedia Germans) found his schtick a nice break from the men in leather and the whipping.

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Lonesome Dove: Roscoe Brown & Louisa Brooks

When he awoke he got a shock almost worse than if he had found the rattler curled up on his chest: Louisa was standing astraddle of him. Roscoe was so tired that it was only his brain that had come awake, it seemed. He would ordinarily have reacted quickly to the sight of anyone standing astraddle of him, much less a woman, but in this case his limbs were so heavy with sleep that he couldn’t move a one: opening his eyes was effort enough. It was nearly sunup, still sultry and humid. He saw that Louisa was barefoot and that her feet and ankles were wet from the dewy grass. He couldn’t see her face or judge her disposition, but he felt a longing to be back on his couch in the jail, where crazy things didn’t happen. Although he was just in his long johns, the blanket was up about his chest, so at least she hadn’t caught him indecent.

For a second he took a sleepy comfort from that reflection, but a second later it ceased to be true. Louisa stuck one of her wet feet under the blanket and kicked it off. Roscoe was so anchored in sleep he still couldn’t react. Then, to his extreme astonishment, Louisa squatted right atop his middle and reached into his long johns and took hold of his tool. Nothing like that had ever happened to him, and he was stunned, though his tool wasn’t. While the rest of him had been heavy with sleep, it had become heavy with itself.

"Why you’re a tom turkey, ain’t you," Louisa said.

To Roscoe’s astonishment, Louisa proceeded to squat right down on him. Instead of being covered with a blanket, he was covered with her skirts. At that point the sun broke through the mist, lighting the clearing and adding to his embarrassment, for anyone could have ridden up and seen that something mighty improper was happening.

As it was, though, only three or four of Louisa’s chickens watched the act, but even the fact that the chickens were standing around added to Roscoe’s embarrassment. Maybe the chickens weren’t really watching, but they seemed to be. Meanwhile Louisa was wiggling around without much interest in what he thought about it all. Roscoe decided the best approach was to pretend a dream was happening, though he knew quite well it wasn’t. But Louisa’s vigor was such that even if Roscoe had got his thoughts in place they would soon have been jarred awry. A time or two he was practically lifted off the ground by her efforts; he was scooted off his tarp and back into the weeds and was forced to open his eyes again in hopes of being able to spot a bush he could grab, to hold himself in place. About the time Louisa moved him completely off the tarp, matters came to a head. Despite the chickens and the weeds and the danger of witnesses, he felt a sharp pleasure. Louisa apparently did too, soon afterward, for she wiggled even more vigorously and grunted loudly. Then she sat on him for several minutes, scratching at the chigger bites on his wet ankles. He soon sank right out of her, but Louisa was in no hurry to get up. She seemed in a quiet humor. Once in a while she clucked a time or two at the chickens. Roscoe felt his neck begin to itch from the weeds. A swarm of gnats hung right over his face, and Louisa considerately swatted them away.

"There’s Ed," Louisa said. Sure enough, a big rattler was crawling over a log about ten yards away.

— Lonesome Dove (1985): Part II, Chap. 37 

I just still don’t understand why people stay apart from each other… If even after years oater a breakup… Their still walking around soulless lol and continue to seek each other for comfort, support, and happiness as well as forgiveness .
But we just don’t always know what we want.. Or don’t want to accept it bc our generation always just feels entitled to the most… But what if no other person out there will make you as happy as they did. Then what.
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