A Long, Tall Stranger from Santa Fe Brings the Secret of Generic Viagra

It's Cowboy Dick here, with a stupefying story of what Generic Viagra can do for a man with a little problem dangling useless between his legs. I don't matter if you're a grizzled old rodeo rider like me, who's done fell of one too many bulls, or if you're a strapping young man with his whole like ahead of him. If you're stressed, or overworked, or who knows what else, you can start having something smart people call erectile dysfunction, which is the biggest word that's ever passed my chapped lips. Then, Generic Viagra can be your best bet. Don't go down like Custer-don't try to be a hero. Don't be a martyr to sexual disorder, and become a wandering cowboy poet or something, lamenting your sorry state, or singing of past triumphs in the sack. Buck up, cowboy-your best triumphs may be ahead of you yet, if you get some Generic Viagra to tote with you. Then you can swaller some whenever you see a cute lass who needs a good, long ride to cheer her up a little.

I've told y'all already how my erectile dysfunction started, and how some smart-aleck from Santa Fe told me how he'd bought some of this Generic Viagra stuff there in the big city. You see, I'm just plain ignorant, and I didn't even know stuff like this existed. I didn't even know what erectile dysfunction was, until all of a sudden my Jesse James keeled over like a sick cow and wouldn't get up for love nor money. I didn't know what to do, until I found out about Generic Viagra. Funny thing, this smart aleck said maybe my erectile dysfunction was from sitting in the saddle too long. He said I was so bowlegged that maybe I was bowpenised too. I told him he was full of it and liked to of shot him dead right there, if he hadn't of been so helpful in giving me a sample of Generic Viagra from Santa Fe. He said some rhinestone cowboys from the big city had had the same problems from riding bicycles too long-he said sitting like that could damage your crotch and give you man problems. Said he'd read it in the newspaper. Riding bicycles? I'd never heard of grown men riding around town on bicycles. Me, I rode into town on my bull-and on my horse on Sundays, just to be more proper. I said that his city ways weren't my ways. But that I'd give his Generic Viagra a try, because my Dead Eye Dick was in a bad way, and little Suzy, back at the homestead, was pining for my Big Chief Throbbing Horse.

You should've seen the look on Suzy's face when I rode home to the homeplace with my package of Generic Viagra under my arms. I didn't even try to hide it from her, because I wasn't sure exactly what to do with it-cook it up with some tortillas and eat it, or make a paste of it and spread it all over my big hairy peacemaker. She laughed at my stupid ignorance, and told me to swaller some of it. I asked if I could wash it down with some whiskey, and she said, naw, it's be better to go without alcohol, frankly. So I did what she said. Long story short, the Generic Viagra worked. It didn't taste like much, but once it got inside me, it was like a swarm of bees in my saddlesack. My old rattler came out from under its rock and slipped into Suzy's panties, looking for a mouse.