Morgan wallen cowboy boots

I've done some searching for reviews and manufacturers that meet my specs. However my needs are a bit different. I live and work in the Amazon Jungle, and I often travel to the Andes for work which sometimes includes long treks and construction.
I'm looking for Snake Boots, and I would prefer these boots be the last ones I ever buy. That means I will need these boots to be resoleable, repairable, and extremely durable. The jungle conditions where I send most of my time eats every pair of boots, I get less than a year out of my last four pairs, and I've bought Danners, and other reliable brands with the same results. The local people wear standard wellies/rubber boots, but I hate them as they trap water inside and make a mess of my feet. I wear these boots 20+ days a month, these aren't for hunting a couple months out of the year.
Specs I need are: 16 to 17 inch high; water proof; vapor release; resoleable; no metal (or metal that won't corrode in high humidity even if damaged)
Specs I want: composite toe; no zipper (or I would settle for an EXTREMELY durable zipper that won't fail in muddy conditions),
I've thought about Chippewa, some other options on Amazon like this, Muck Boots etc. Or even buying a custom boot from "cowboy" bootmakers in Oklahoma. I go back to the States for a short visit next month, I'd like to buy the boots then but may not have time for custom made boots.
Any help or recommendations are appreciated.

Not sure if this is allowed in here because this is a Morgan Wallen page but
I like Bailey. He’s not bad in my opinion for a young guy, I think he’s 23? I’m not really sure how he got famous but his album is pretty good for a debut..his songs are catchy, it sounds like he’s got a good voice. I think I’d go see him live one day for sure. What are your guys’ thoughts?

If you wear a cowboy hat and/or boots and don't actually work with cattle and horses, you're actually just a poser. Cowboy boots are designed to use with stirrups, the toe is to allow easy access to the stirrups and the heel is there to prevent a slip-through. Hats are made to shelter the wearer from the sun as well as to channel rain away from the collar.

To preface I’m a water and sewer utility mechanic. I work outdoors everyday and change into rubber boots when things get wet and muddy. I have always worn slip on square toe cowboy boots my whole life but I’m tired of my feet always hurting. I’ve been looking at the Iron rangers because I really love the style and I am a red wing fan. My only concern is will these boots hold up to utility work? I know they are generally advertised as a casual boot. I’d like to hear if anyone works in these boots and if not does anyone know of anything like the iron ranger that can be used for daily outdoor work? I want a carbon toe but I don’t have to have one. Any input is appreciated!!

As many of us here know, much of popular music is made up of relatively simple chord progressions.
For an example I figured I'd just look at the current billboard 100. Right now the top spot at #1 is "Last Night" by Morgan Wallen. Took a listen and it sounds like the entire song is:
B, C#sus, D#min
Basically: IV - V - vi or, as I would usually think of it in my own brain, the relative minor VI - VII - i
Now, I suspect many young composers may start a song the same way and think, "this is boring. I'm not doing enough harmonically. I don't know how to write harmonies."
To that I'd say: take a step back. What is your goal? Are you trying to write a song that's under 3 minutes?
There are lots of relevant questions to help gain context, but more often than not, if you're writing a relatively short song, a 3 chord progression such as VI-VII-i is going to be more than enough.
But how? Why does it work? I'm not going to go over why the progression itself works, but rather why this is a (in my opinion and apparently the opinion of millions of others) decent song.
The progressions is familiar, which is something you want in a pop (this is popular country but I'm going to call it pop). The song also follows a couple of classical theory "rules". On the guitar, at least (which is the primary instrument in this song besides vocals) you don't have parallel 5ths or octaves. You also have a focal point in the melody. The vocals also have a focal point.
Now these rules don't necessarily need to be followed by any means to have a good song, but they can help create what I call "safety nets" to your song which can potentially help it from feeling repetitive, even with a 3 chord progression that repeats the entire song.
With a simple progression like this, you've also left room for the singer to have an easier time doing whatever they want vocally. And in vocal-centric music, this is a good thing.
Once the guitar part and vocals are in place, you've got something quite decent. It may or not be enough by itself, and that's where embellishments and harmonies come in. The popular country songs I have heard (admittedly not that many) frequently put third harmonies over the vocals to help beef up the vocal part.
So with a simple progression in a very repetitive song, you've actually made quite a few moves that require nothing more than relatively basic theory knowledge that help make it into a hit.
At each point in the writing process, nothing particularly crazy was done, but each part was (probably) written a bit thoughtfully with the context of the rest of the song in mind. This is, in my opinion, one of the reasons why so many popular songs can sound good with a relatively simple structure. And I believe that this is accessible to anybody who has learned scales and chords, and understands the basics of chords and chord progressions.

I love me a cowboy boot shape and lately I’ve been kinda unimpressed with my Lucky brand booties. I usually pair them with a kind of peasant shirt with tight stretch jeans. But what about…skirts? Are there skirts that work for FN’s to wear booties? Hoping for some ideas :)

Season 2 Finale
“You look worried Bruce,” my producer jokes, moments before going live. “Even for you.”
This gets a chuckle from the crew.
“Quiet on the set!”
I’m already shaking in my shoes. Not a good sign. Working for the Devil is extremely stressful. And dangerous. And certainly not for the faint of heart. Why I took this gig is beyond me.
(Cue creepy music)
“Going live in five…four…three…”
I get the nod.
(Cut to camera one)
“Greetings Hell Beings and hell raisers. Welcome to the Season 2 finale of….”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
I wave my arms in the air.
The audience jumps to their feet.
Someone heckles.
“Alright. Knock it off.”
I serve up my best game show-host grin. It looks as fake as this cheap Hollywood studio.
“As you probably know, my name is Bruce Davie, and I’m the host of…”
(Cue audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
There’s a disturbance in the audience. A crew member forcefully removes someone. The commotion settles, and I get the go-ahead.
“Phew! A feisty crowd tonight!”
My painted-on smile takes up the entire screen. So does my gleaming bald head.
“Now I know what you’re thinking. What’s the Devil got in store for us this evening?”
The audience rumbles.
I shrug.
“Honestly, I wish I knew!”
This is true. But I’m sure it has something to do with me spending an eternity in Hell. It’s right there in my contract, which runs out after this episode.
(Cut to camera two)
“So, without further ado, let’s bring out tonight’s contestants, shall we?”
The audience roars.
“And yes, you heard me correctly. Tonight, for the first time ever in this show’s defamatory history, we’ve got two contestants!”
Audience is on their feet, whooping and hollering.
(Cut to camera three)
(Cue music)
A middle-aged couple promenade towards the podium. They’re dressed like cowboys, and walk with a sense of purpose.
(Split screen)
“Welcome, both of you.”
More like: Welcome to your funeral.
“Tell us a wee bit about yourselves, why don’t you?”
(Cut to camera four)
The woman speaks first. Her hair is amber, her complexion as pale as light beer.
“Well, Bruce. My name is Tammy. I’m a stay-at-home mom. This here’s my partner, Tex. He owns his own gun shop. We live in Austin Texas, with three beautiful children, who are with us here tonight.”
She points.
(Cut to overhead camera)
Two tall boys and a young girl, each dressed head-to-toe in denim, stand and bow.
The audience applauds.
(Split screen)
The other contestant approaches the microphone. He’s as tall as an ivory tower, with a voice like a banjo.
“Howdy Bruce. Good to be here.”
He tilts his cowboy hat. His square jaw and rugged good looks give Chuck Norris a run for his money.
I salute them.
(Cut to camera two)
“Well then, now that we’re finished with the formalities, I do believe it’s time to…”
(Cue audience)
“BRING OUT THE DEVIL.”
(Cue creepy music)
(Cue pyrotechnics)
The stage fills with fire and brimstone. Pentagrams slice through the air. The Devil appears suddenly, dressed in a shiny new devil suit, tailored specifically for tonight’s show. It’s jet-black, and leaves little to the imagination. His pitchforked tail follows closely behind him as he approaches the podium.
(Cut to Camera five)
The Devil wraps his arms around the two contestants, kisses them both on the cheek.
Tex, clearly perturbed, winces, then grudgingly wipes his cheek.
The Devil snarls, then looks him up and down.
“Looks like everything isn’t bigger in Texas,” the Devil teases. Suddenly, he’s grown over eight-feet tall, and is looming over the tall Texan.
(Cut to camera three)
The bright lights and furious makeup make me look like a cartoon.
“What an exciting night this promises to be!”
Tammy steps forward.
“You bet it is, Bruce. We’ve watched every episode. We just love…”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
(Cut to camera three)
“Of course!” Damion boasts. “This is Hell’s most popular show. And for good reason.”
He slaps the woman’s backside with his tail, then raises his eyebrows mockingly.
The cowboy puffs out his chest, fists clenched, daring him to touch his wife again.
“Woah, easy there pardner.”
Damion nudges Tex.
Tammy is flushed. “Don’t mind Tex. He’s the jealous kind.”
“Oh really?”
Damion’s tail is now shaped like a lasso. With it, he snags Tammy and pulls her close. Her face turns tomato-red.
The cowboy grunts, pulling it off with one strong swoop.
The audience boos.
The Devil snickers.
I feel sick. If this is to be my last episode (or final day on Earth), I don’t want it spoiled by this denim-clad dude whose hat is bigger than his brains, or by Damion, who seems extra feisty tonight. Even for him.
(Cut to camera one)
I clear my throat.
“Tell us, Tammy and Tex…no, tell all of Hell…what it is your beating hearts desire?”
The audience is on the edge of their seats.
(Split screen)
The Texans exchange doubtful looks.
The wife takes charge.
“Well Bruce,” Tammy says. “We don’t want anything that might get us killed. Being from Dallas, we were raised with some common sense.”
The audience hisses.
(Cut to camera five)
The husband steps up.
“That’s right, Bruce. Simply put, we want to be famous for a day. That’s it. Then we can write a book and live off the royalties.”
The audience erupts into a frenzy of catcalls.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil’s eyebrows touch the top of his head. His voice slithers like a snake.
“Is that so?”
My heart plummets. These Texans are flirting with disaster. If they’d stuck to the script, they might be safe. They were supposed to ask for a lifetime’s supply of Super Bowl tickets. Easy-peasy. Who do these cowpokes think they are? Do they really think they can outsmart the Devil?
“Well then,” I say, shakily. “I’m sure Damion can arrange that.”
I raise my arms.
“What does the audience think?”
The audience goes ballistic.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil, still towering over the Texans, leans into the camera.
“Famous, eh?”
His lips smack against his face. When he touches the dude’s shoulder, the cowboy swipes his arm away.
The audience boos. Someone tosses an egg onto the podium, narrowly missing the contestants.
“Woah! Easy does it!” I spurt out.
All hell breaks loose.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The crew gets busy, disposing of both the egg and the agitator.
(Cut to camera one)
I wipe my sweaty forehead.
“Tough crowd.”
The audience hoots.
The Devil sneers.
“SILENCE!”
Flames flash across the room.
People shriek, including me.
(Close up of Damion)
The Devil, boasting his gambler’s grin, turns to the contestants.
“Yes, yes. You WILL be famous. But just for one day.”
The audience roars their approval.
I shudder. Never in all my years, have I felt so much animosity from an audience. I’ll be lucky to make it out alive.
(Split screen)
“Sounds like the Devil has a plan.”
I try to sound cheerful. But cheerfulness is the opposite of how I feel.
(Cut to camera one)
“Tell us Damion…and all of Hell…what you’ve got cooked up?”
The audience leans in.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil winks at Tammy.
“Well, I do believe it’s time for those two cowpokes to become famous. Am I correct?”
The audience jumps to their feet, chanting: “FAMOUS.… FAMOUS…. FAMOUS.…”
(Split screen)
Tammy looks pleased. Her partner, on the other hand, is showing concern. His shoulders are tense, he’s swallowed his bottom lip.
Damion dazzles the audience.
“Famous, y’all shall be.”
He snaps his fingers.
BAM.
The studio goes dark.
Someone in the audience screams.
Tammy gasps.
Tex grunts.
(Cut to camera one)
I shrug.
Is this Damion’s latest trick? Or did they finally cut the power? We give the impression that this show is hugely popular; but in truth, outside of Hell, this show is a dud. Cable and internet companies avoid us like the plague.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The contestants vanish under a cloud of fog.
A flaming pentagram floats across the stage.
“Well, isn’t that just dandy!”
The Devil points to the large screen behind the audience.
“Mister and Missus Cowpoke are about to jump the falls!”
He snaps his fingers, then he disappears.
My legs go weak. My heart is beating irregularly again. I still don’t know he does it. How any of this works. Suddenly, I’m alone on stage, shaking in my fine Italian boots, while the audience grows rowdier by the second.
Cameras mounted on drones are pointed at Tammy and Tex, who are trapped inside a large, steel barrel, with Niagara Falls looming below them.
Damion flies across the falls, lands next to Tammy and Tex. He taps the barrel.
“Ain’t she a beauty?”
The audience hurrahs.
The barrel is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Although it’s huge, and probably weighs a ton, it barely contains the two Texans, who are kicking and screaming, cursing up a storm.
“Get me the hell out of here!” Tammy’s voice rips through the noise of the falls. “NOW!”
Damion frowns.
“You wanted to be famous. Am I right?”
The audience chants, “FAMOUS…. FAMOUS.… FAMOUS….”
Tex pokes his head out of the barrel, cowboy hat and all.
“Now wait one minute, Damion. That’s unfair. We wanted fame. Not death.”
The Devil chuckles.
“The two are synonymous, am I right?”
The audience agrees.
Damion checks his watch.
“Well then…”
He slams the lid shut.
That’s the end of the Texans, as far as I’m concerned.
(Close up of Damion)
“Whatcha think? Should they jump the falls?”
The audience shouts, “JUMP…. JUMP…. JUMP….”
(Cut to camera two)
My insides are melting. I’m petrified. You’d think working with the Devil would get easier over time. You’d be dead wrong.
“Looks like the people have spoken!” I hear myself say.
The audience continues their chant.
(Cut to overhead camera)
“Excellent,” Damion says, fiddling his fingers.
He looks over the cliff, and makes a sour face.
“Wowsers. That’s a long way down!”
“JUMP…. JUMP…. JUMP….”
“And so much water!”
(Cut to camera one)
My worried-sick face appears on the screen.
I straighten up.
“Once they jump, Tam and Tex will surely be famous!”
Except of course, they won’t be famous. Not in this world anyways. They’ve been duped. Why these people sign up to die is beyond me. Perhaps we’ve reached a spectacular level of stupidity in human evolution.
(Cut to overhead camera)
Damion’s lips stretch across his reddened face, his arms flex like a weightlifter.
“I’ll give them a helping hand.”
He rolls the giant barrel to the very edge of the cliff, ignoring the banging and hollering coming from within the steel coffin.
“Tammy, Tex…” His lips stretch into a snarl. “Prepare for fame!”
The audience is on their feet.
Damion shoves the barrel over the edge.
(Split screen)
The barrel tumbles down the falls, disappearing into the fast-moving water.
The audience holds its breath.
(Cut to spy camera)
Inside the barrel, the Texans are shrieking. Their heads and arms and legs collide. Chunks of puke pour across Tammy’s sickening face, who’s calling Tex every name in the book, and it’s a big book. Meanwhile, Tex is like a frog in a blender. His face is green, his nose is broken; blood is leaking from every orifice.
There’s a loud crash as the barrel plunders underwater.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The barrel resurfaces, traveling dangerously downstream.
The audience is back on their feet, fist-pumping.
(Split screen)
What troubles me is how the pedestrians and tourists, crowding the streets, remain oblivious. To them, this is nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody watches, or even takes a pic. I’m starting to suspect foul play. Somehow, Damion is controlling this. He’s using dark magic. A spell. Maybe none of this is real. Except of course, it is real.
(Cut to camera one)
I’m trembling.
“What a jump!” my voice ricochets off the studio walls. “They’ll be famous in no time!”
The audience chants:
“FAMOUS…. FAMOUS…. FAMOUS….”
(Closeup of the Devil)
“Yes, yes. An excellent jump, I must say.”
He peaks over the edge.
“Looks like they could use some help.”
(Cut to overhead camera)
Damion flies towards the barrel, which is bouncing off rocks and debris.
(Cut to spy camera)
Blood. So much blood in such a tight space. Tammy’s hair is in disarray. Her face is beyond repair. Tex swallowed his hat. One of his eyeballs is bouncing like a Superball. His left arm is flapping nonsensically. It isn’t attached.
(Cut to camera four)
The Devil scoops up the barrel, then flies to shore. When his feet touch the ground, he shakes off the water, cat-like, then glares at the camera.
“What a jump!”
He cranks open the lip.
(Split screen)
Tammy spills out. So does Tex’s left arm.
The audience gasps.
Damion applauds.
“Such valor and swagger!”
(Cut to camera five)
Tammy is flopping fish-like, barely clinging to life. Her mouth is full of blood and brains.
The Devil puts his foot on her head.
“SAY CHEESE.”
From out of nowhere, a photographer appears.
SNAP.
Damion, looking pleased with himself, is suddenly holding a newspaper.
(Closeup of newspaper)
The headline splashes across the screen: IDIOTS JUMP THE FALLS.
(Cut to camera four)
Damion shoves the newspaper in front of her face.
“Looks like Tammy and Tex are famous.”
Tammy's eyes twitch. Clearly, she needs medical assistance. I’m surprised she’s still alive. Her husbands brains are splattered across the inside of the barrel.
The very sight of this makes me gag.
Tammy tries to speak, but fails. Her eyes are filled with rage.
Damion tosses the leftover arm into the water, then shrugs.
“Sorry about your hubby.”
(Cut to camera two)
With wobbly knees, I face the audience.
“Looks like the barrel got the best of Tex!”
The audience bellows.
I continue to talk involuntarily.
“Gosh dolly. Look at all that blood!”
“MORE BLOOD…. MORE BLOOD…. MORE BLOOD….”
I find myself chanting along.
Suddenly, my vision blurs. I clutch my chest. Maybe I’ll suffer a heart attack on live TV. Hell waits for no one, I suppose.
(Cut to camera four)
Tammy spits blood on Damion’s boot.
“Devil be damned.” I blurt.
Damion’s face twists into a ball of fury.
“Now, now, Tammy. That wasn’t very nice.”
He crushes her fingers with his boots.
Tammy yelps.
“I was gonna save your long-limbed partner over there,” he points. “Not anymore!”
The audience is bloodthirsty. Paper airplanes and rotten eggs whizz past me. I duck just in time.
(Closeup of contestant)
Tammy’s tongue is leaking from her bloodied face. She’s missing her front teeth. Damion digs his spiky heel deep into her blood-soaked abdomen.
“I reckon you’ll need medical assistance.”
He snaps his fingers.
Suddenly, they're back in the studio.
Damion is as happy as a filthy pig. Next to him is Tammy, who’s caked in blood and gore. Her corpse-of-a-husband spills from the gigantic steel barrel, taking center stage.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The contestant’s children rush the stage. They’re delirious.
The crew hurry out and drag them aside, along with Tammy, who's rushed to the hospital, where she will certainly die.
“Now that’s what I call speedy service!”
My voice appalls me. So does this job. If only I’d listened to my mother, and got into politics.
Damion snaps his finger, then disappears under a plume of dusty smoke.
(Cut to camera one)
“Well, there you have it folks. That’s the last you’ll see of Tammy and Tex. But fret not, they had their moment of fame…in Hell!”
The audience is tossing trash onto the stage.
I narrowly dodge a projectile.
“Hope you’ve enjoyed Season Two as much as I did.”
I hated it.
“And, unless the Devil strikes me down,” and he very-well might, “I hope to see you this Fall, for Season Three of…”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
Season Two
Season One

Season 2 Finale
“You look worried Bruce,” my producer jokes, moments before going live. “Even for you.”
This gets a chuckle from the crew.
“Quiet on the set!”
I’m already shaking in my shoes. Not a good sign. Working for the Devil is extremely stressful. And dangerous. And certainly not for the faint of heart. Why I took this gig is beyond me.
(Cue creepy music)
“Going live in five…four…three…”
I get the nod.
(Cut to camera one)
“Greetings Hell Beings and hell raisers. Welcome to the Season 2 finale of….”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
I wave my arms in the air.
The audience jumps to their feet.
Someone heckles.
“Alright. Knock it off.”
I serve up my best game show-host grin. It looks as fake as this cheap Hollywood studio.
“As you probably know, my name is Bruce Davie, and I’m the host of…”
(Cue audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
There’s a disturbance in the audience. A crew member forcefully removes someone. The commotion settles, and I get the go-ahead.
“Phew! A feisty crowd tonight!”
My painted-on smile takes up the entire screen. So does my gleaming bald head.
“Now I know what you’re thinking. What’s the Devil got in store for us this evening?”
The audience rumbles.
I shrug.
“Honestly, I wish I knew!”
This is true. But I’m sure it has something to do with me spending an eternity in Hell. It’s right there in my contract, which runs out after this episode.
(Cut to camera two)
“So, without further ado, let’s bring out tonight’s contestants, shall we?”
The audience roars.
“And yes, you heard me correctly. Tonight, for the first time ever in this show’s defamatory history, we’ve got two contestants!”
Audience is on their feet, whooping and hollering.
(Cut to camera three)
(Cue music)
A middle-aged couple promenade towards the podium. They’re dressed like cowboys, and walk with a sense of purpose.
(Split screen)
“Welcome, both of you.”
More like: Welcome to your funeral.
“Tell us a wee bit about yourselves, why don’t you?”
(Cut to camera four)
The woman speaks first. Her hair is amber, her complexion as pale as light beer.
“Well, Bruce. My name is Tammy. I’m a stay-at-home mom. This here’s my partner, Tex. He owns his own gun shop. We live in Austin Texas, with three beautiful children, who are with us here tonight.”
She points.
(Cut to overhead camera)
Two tall boys and a young girl, each dressed head-to-toe in denim, stand and bow.
The audience applauds.
(Split screen)
The other contestant approaches the microphone. He’s as tall as an ivory tower, with a voice like a banjo.
“Howdy Bruce. Good to be here.”
He tilts his cowboy hat. His square jaw and rugged good looks give Chuck Norris a run for his money.
I salute them.
(Cut to camera two)
“Well then, now that we’re finished with the formalities, I do believe it’s time to…”
(Cue audience)
“BRING OUT THE DEVIL.”
(Cue creepy music)
(Cue pyrotechnics)
The stage fills with fire and brimstone. Pentagrams slice through the air. The Devil appears suddenly, dressed in a shiny new devil suit, tailored specifically for tonight’s show. It’s jet-black, and leaves little to the imagination. His pitchforked tail follows closely behind him as he approaches the podium.
(Cut to Camera five)
The Devil wraps his arms around the two contestants, kisses them both on the cheek.
Tex, clearly perturbed, winces, then grudgingly wipes his cheek.
The Devil snarls, then looks him up and down.
“Looks like everything isn’t bigger in Texas,” the Devil teases. Suddenly, he’s grown over eight-feet tall, and is looming over the tall Texan.
(Cut to camera three)
The bright lights and furious makeup make me look like a cartoon.
“What an exciting night this promises to be!”
Tammy steps forward.
“You bet it is, Bruce. We’ve watched every episode. We just love…”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
(Cut to camera three)
“Of course!” Damion boasts. “This is Hell’s most popular show. And for good reason.”
He slaps the woman’s backside with his tail, then raises his eyebrows mockingly. The cowboy puffs out his chest, fists clenched, daring him to touch his wife again.
“Woah, easy there pardner.”
Damion nudges Tex.
Tammy is flushed. “Don’t mind Tex. He’s the jealous kind.”
“Oh really?”
Damion’s tail is now shaped like a lasso. With it, he snags Tammy and pulls her close. Her face turns tomato-red.
The cowboy grunts, pulling it off with one strong swoop.
The audience boos.
The Devil snickers.
I feel sick. If this is to be my last episode (or final day on Earth), I don’t want it spoiled by this denim-clad dude whose hat is bigger than his brains, or by Damion, who seems extra feisty tonight. Even for him.
(Cut to camera one)
I clear my throat.
“Tell us, Tammy and Tex…no, tell all of Hell…what it is your beating hearts desire?”
The audience is on the edge of their seats.
(Split screen)
The Texans exchange doubtful looks.
The wife takes charge.
“Well Bruce,” Tammy says. “We don’t want anything that might get us killed. Being from Dallas, we were raised with some common sense.”
The audience hisses.
(Cut to camera five)
The husband steps up.
“That’s right, Bruce. Simply put, we want to be famous for a day. That’s it. Then we can write a book and live off the royalties.”
The audience erupts into a frenzy of catcalls.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil’s eyebrows touch the top of his head. His voice slithers like a snake.
“Is that so?”
My heart plummets. These Texans are flirting with disaster. If they’d stuck to the script, they might be safe. They were supposed to ask for a lifetime’s supply of Super Bowl tickets. Easy-peasy. Who do these cowpokes think they are? Do they really think they can outsmart the Devil?
“Well then,” I say, shakily. “I’m sure Damion can arrange that.”
I raise my arms.
“What does the audience think?”
The audience goes ballistic.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil, still towering over the Texans, leans into the camera.
“Famous, eh?”
His lips smack against his face. When he touches the dude’s shoulder, the cowboy swipes his arm away.
The audience boos. Someone tosses an egg onto the podium, narrowly missing the contestants.
“Woah! Easy does it!” I spurt out.
All hell breaks loose.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The crew gets busy, disposing of both the egg and the agitator.
(Cut to camera one)
I wipe my sweaty forehead.
“Tough crowd.”
The audience hoots.
The Devil sneers.
“SILENCE!”
Flames flash across the room.
People shriek, including me.
(Close up of Damion)
The Devil, boasting his gambler’s grin, turns to the contestants.
“Yes, yes. You WILL be famous. But just for one day.”
The audience roars their approval.
I shudder. Never in all my years, have I felt so much animosity from an audience. I’ll be lucky to make it out alive.
(Split screen)
“Sounds like the Devil has a plan.”
I try to sound cheerful. But cheerfulness is the opposite of how I feel.
(Cut to camera one)
“Tell us Damion…and all of Hell…what you’ve got cooked up?”
The audience leans in.
(Cut to camera three)
The Devil winks at Tammy.
“Well, I do believe it’s time for those two cowpokes to become famous. Am I correct?”
The audience jumps to their feet, chanting: “FAMOUS.… FAMOUS…. FAMOUS.…”
(Split screen)
Tammy looks pleased. Her partner, on the other hand, is showing concern. His shoulders are tense, he’s swallowed his bottom lip.
Damion dazzles the audience.
“Famous, y’all shall be.”
He snaps his fingers.
BAM.
The studio goes dark.
Someone in the audience screams.
Tammy gasps.
Tex grunts.
(Cut to camera one)
I shrug.
Is this Damion’s latest trick? Or did they finally cut the power? We give the impression that this show is hugely popular; but in truth, outside of Hell, this show is a dud. Cable and internet companies avoid us like the plague.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The contestants vanish under a cloud of fog.
A flaming pentagram floats across the stage.
“Well, isn’t that just dandy!”
The Devil points to the large screen behind the audience.
“Mister and Missus Cowpoke are about to jump the falls!”
He snaps his fingers, then he disappears.
My legs go weak. My heart is beating irregularly again. I still don’t know he does it. How any of this works. Suddenly, I’m alone on stage, shaking in my fine Italian boots, while the audience grows rowdier by the second.
Cameras mounted on drones are pointed at Tammy and Tex, who are trapped inside a large, steel barrel, with Niagara Falls looming below them.
Damion flies across the falls, lands next to Tammy and Tex.
He taps the barrel.
“Ain’t she a beauty?”
The audience hurrahs.
The barrel is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Although it’s huge, and probably weighs a ton, it barely contains the two Texans, who are kicking and screaming, cursing up a storm.
“Get me the hell out of here!” Tammy’s voice rips through the noise of the falls. “NOW!”
Damion frowns.
“You wanted to be famous. Am I right?”
The audience chants, “FAMOUS…. FAMOUS.… FAMOUS….”
Tex pokes his head out of the barrel, cowboy hat and all.
“Now wait one minute, Damion. That’s unfair. We wanted fame. Not death.”
The Devil chuckles.
“The two are synonymous, am I right?”
The audience agrees.
Damion checks his watch.
“Well then...”
He slams the lid shut.
That’s the end of the Texans, as far as I’m concerned.
(Close up of Damion)
“Whatcha think? Should they jump the falls?”
The audience shouts, “JUMP…. JUMP…. JUMP….”
(Cut to camera two)
My insides are melting. I’m petrified. You’d think working with the Devil would get easier over time. You’d be dead wrong.
“Looks like the people have spoken!” I hear myself say.
The audience continues their chant.
(Cut to overhead camera)
“Excellent,” Damion says, fiddling his fingers.
He looks over the cliff, and makes a sour face.
“Wowsers. That’s a long way down!”
“JUMP…. JUMP…. JUMP....”
“And so much water!”
(Cut to camera one)
My worried-sick face appears on the screen.
I straighten up.
“Once they jump, Tam and Tex will surely be famous!”
Except of course, they won’t be famous. Not in this world anyways. They’ve been duped. Why these people sign up to die is beyond me. Perhaps we’ve reached a spectacular level of stupidity in human evolution.
(Cut to overhead camera)
Damion’s lips stretch across his reddened face, his arms flex like a weightlifter.
“I’ll give them a helping hand.”
He rolls the giant barrel to the very edge of the cliff, ignoring the banging and hollering coming from within the steel coffin.
“Tammy, Tex…” His lips stretch into a snarl. “Prepare for fame!”
The audience is on their feet.
Damion shoves the barrel over the edge.
(Split screen)
The barrel tumbles down the falls, disappearing into the fast-moving water.
The audience holds its breath.
(Cut to spy camera)
Inside the barrel, the Texans are shrieking. Their heads and arms and legs collide. Chunks of puke pour across Tammy’s sickening face, who’s calling Tex every name in the book, and it’s a big book. Meanwhile, Tex is like a frog in a blender. His face is green, his nose is broken; blood is leaking from every orifice.
There’s a loud crash as the barrel plunders underwater.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The barrel resurfaces, traveling dangerously downstream.
The audience is back on their feet, fist-pumping.
(Split screen)
What troubles me is how the pedestrians and tourists, crowding the streets, remain oblivious. To them, this is nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody watches, or even takes a pic. I’m starting to suspect foul play. Somehow, Damion is controlling this. He’s using dark magic. A spell. Maybe none of this is real. Except of course, it is real.
(Cut to camera one)
I’m trembling.
“What a jump!” my voice ricochets off the studio walls. “They’ll be famous in no time!”
The audience chants:
“FAMOUS…. FAMOUS…. FAMOUS….”
(Closeup of the Devil)
“Yes, yes. An excellent jump, I must say.”
He peaks over the edge.
“Looks like they could use some help.”
(Cut to overhead camera)
Damion flies towards the barrel, which is bouncing off rocks and debris.
(Cut to spy camera)
Blood. So much blood in such a tight space. Tammy’s hair is in disarray. Her face is beyond repair. Tex swallowed his hat. One of his eyeballs is bouncing like a Superball. His left arm is flapping nonsensically. It isn’t attached.
(Cut to camera four)
The Devil scoops up the barrel, then flies to shore. When his feet touch the ground, he shakes off the water, cat-like, then glares at the camera.
“What a jump!”
He cranks open the lip.
(Split screen)
Tammy spills out. So does Tex’s left arm.
The audience gasps.
Damion applauds.
“Such valor and swagger!”
(Cut to camera five)
Tammy is flopping fish-like, barely clinging to life. Her mouth is full of blood and brains.
The Devil puts his foot on her head.
“SAY CHEESE.”
From out of nowhere, a photographer appears.
SNAP.
Damion, looking pleased with himself, is suddenly holding a newspaper.
(Closeup of newspaper)
The headline splashes across the screen: IDIOTS JUMP THE FALLS.
(Cut to camera four)
Damion shoves the newspaper in front of her face.
“Looks like Tammy and Tex are famous.”
Tammy's eyes twitch. Clearly, she needs medical assistance. I’m surprised she’s still alive. Her husbands brains are splattered across the inside of the barrel. The very sight of this makes me gag.
Tammy tries to speak, but fails. Her eyes are filled with rage.
Damion tosses the leftover arm into the water, then shrugs.
“Sorry about your hubby.”
(Cut to camera two)
With wobbly knees, I face the audience.
“Looks like the barrel got the best of Tex!”
The audience bellows.
I continue to talk involuntarily.
“Gosh dolly. Look at all that blood!”
“MORE BLOOD…. MORE BLOOD…. MORE BLOOD….”
I find myself chanting along.
Suddenly, my vision blurs. I clutch my chest. Maybe I’ll suffer a heart attack on live TV. Hell waits for no one, I suppose.
(Cut to camera four)
Tammy spits blood on Damion’s boot.
“Devil be damned.” I blurt.
Damion’s face twists into a ball of fury.
“Now, now, Tammy. That wasn’t very nice.”
He crushes her fingers with his boots.
Tammy yelps.
“I was gonna save your long-limbed partner over there,” he points. “Not anymore!”
The audience is bloodthirsty. Paper airplanes and rotten eggs whizz past me. I duck just in time.
(Closeup of contestant)
Tammy’s tongue is leaking from her bloodied face. She’s missing her front teeth. Damion digs his spiky heel deep into her blood-soaked abdomen.
“I reckon you’ll need medical assistance.”
He snaps his fingers.
Suddenly, they're back in the studio.
Damion is as happy as a filthy pig. Next to him is Tammy, who’s caked in blood and gore. Her corpse-of-a-husband spills from the gigantic steel barrel, taking center stage.
(Cut to overhead camera)
The contestant’s children rush the stage. They’re delirious.
The crew hurry out and drag them aside, along with Tammy, who's rushed to the hospital, where she will certainly die.
“Now that’s what I call speedy service!”
My voice appalls me. So does this job. If only I’d listened to my mother, and got into politics.
Damion snaps his finger, then disappears under a plume of dusty smoke.
(Cut to camera one)
“Well, there you have it folks. That’s the last you’ll see of Tammy and Tex. But fret not, they had their moment of fame…in Hell!”
The audience is tossing trash onto the stage.
I narrowly dodge a projectile.
“Hope you’ve enjoyed Season Two as much as I did.”
I hated it.
“And, unless the Devil strikes me down,” and he very-well might, “I hope to see you this Fall, for Season Three of…”
(Cue the audience)
“LET’S MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.”
Season Two
Season One

Without a doubt, we're now seeing country music taking its strongest position it's ever been in globally. With music now hitting charts globally in places people never thought we'd see it reach, with artists like Luke Combs, and Morgan Wallen charting in Europe, and Australisia. Artists are also seeing sold out tours globally in bigger venues. Why do people think this is? Down to streaming, down to the genres evolution to include more adaptations with electronic and rock music, or even down to the success Nashville enjoyed broadcasting across the globe. What are people's opinions?

I’m not going to lie: there are times when I miss the old Todd who would occasionally completely unload on a song or artist, in genuinely hilarious fashion. With that being said, today’s Todd who’s pushing 40 is just so much better at providing creative insights and providing/detecting nuance. Like, going back to his 2013 review of Lady Gaga’s Applause, his takes on it are extremely, extremely face value and do the song and artist an undeserved disservice; when you go to his review of Morgan Wallen’s Last Night, he spends almost the entire video brilliantly dissecting the issues with Wallen’s career arc. I still love the Old Todd overall, and there’s a reason I started watching, but his channel is better than ever.

This is an outtake from the Lonesome Crowded West sessions. The song was officially released in 2014. How do you feel about this song? What are some of your favorite lyrics? What’s your favorite live performance of the song? How would you rank it among the rest of the band’s discography? How would you rate it out of 10 (decimals allowed)?
Studio version
SUGGESTED SCALE: 1-4: Not good. Regularly skip. 5: It’s okay, but I might have to be in the right mood to listen to it. 6: Slightly better than average. I won’t skip it, but I wouldn’t choose to put it on. 7: This is a good song. I enjoy it quite a bit. 8-9: Really enjoyable songs. I rank them pretty high overall. 10: Masterpiece, magnum opus, or similar terminology.
Rating Results 1. Teeth Like God’s Shoeshine: 9.78/10 2. Heart Cooks Brain: 9.54/10 3. Convenient Parking: 8.94/10 4. Lounge (Closing Time: 8.55/10 5. Jesus Christ Was an Only Child: 6.94/10 6. Doin’ the Cockroach: 9.9/10 7. Cowboy Dan: 9.78/10 8. Trailer Trash: 9.77/10 9. Out of Gas: 8.34/10 10. Long Distance Drunk: 6.04/10 11. Shit Luck: 7.47/10 12. Truckers Atlas: 9.71/10 13. Polar Opposites: 9.29/10 14. Bankrupt on Selling: 9.54/10 15. Styrofoam Boots/It's All Nice on Ice, Alright: 9.74/10 — 16. Baby Blue Sedan: 9.04/10 17. Other People’s Lives: 9.15/10 18. Grey Ice Water: 9/10 19. Never Ending Math Equation: 9.07/10 20. Workin' on Leavin' the Livin': 7.13/10 21. Whenever You See Fit: 7.93/10 22. White Lies, Yellow Teeth: 23. Too Many Fiestas for Reuben:

This post will refresh the 1^st of every month at 12AM Central Time.
Below are some of the most frequently asked questions and their respective answers. This thread is to help condense these common questions into one location. A lot of newcomers to this community end up stuck in the mod queue and sometimes the threads die so the goal of this post is to stop that from happening and maybe get people a little better help getting started in the sport.
This thread is now mandatory for these types of questions so please don't get your feelings hurt if your post is locked and you are redirected here - it's only to get you better help and better organize the community!
How do I get started?
The best way is to look for a clinic in your area. Nobody is going to recommend you just throw on a helmet and climb on a bull or bronc. If you are looking for specific traineclinic recommendations in your area, feel free to ask in this thread!
I'm , is it too late to start?
No, you're not too old. The best day to start rodeoing was yesterday. The second best day is today.
Where do I buy for bull riding? Ropes?
NRS or Teskey's are both good options.
Where do I ride/rope/wrestle bulls/broncs/steers/calves in my area?
Ask below!
Can I wear a belt buckle that I didn't earn?
If you bought it or it was given to you, you earned it.
Is anyone going to judge me for dressing like a cowboy/cowgirl if I've never ridden a horse touched a cow?
Maybe. Who cares. Go ride a horse and touch a cow. We can make a cowboy/cowgirl out of you yet.
I heard they tie a rope around the bull/bronc's nuts to make him buck.
There is a flank strap loosely cinched to the animal's belly and they buck because they instinctively do it as a defense mechanism. Rodeo animals are trained from a young age to reward this bucking behavior when there is a flank strap attached and this is why they buck.
Additionally, many broncs are mares (female) and so they do not have nuts to tie a rope around.
Is rodeo cruelty?
This is a commonly asked question. Here are some of the responses that have been given before. Tl;dr this community is full of animal lovers and condemns abuse of any kind.

In the US, everyone I know who is involved in rodeo loves the animals. Sometimes the participants (human or livestock) get injured but everyone does their best to take precautions and make sure that doesn’t happen. Most mid-size rodeo events will require at least one veterinarian on site and may have designated animal welfare staff to ensure everything is being done correctly.

​

I have been directly involved in Rodeo for more than a decade now. I work within multiple organizations, some of the biggest promoters in the world. My experience goes all the way down to holding chute tours to give an inside scoop at the sport, the animals, equipment, all of it.
The men and women in rodeo hold the animals in higher regard than themselves. And the ones that don’t, are found out and often find themselves without a rodeo community around them. Their animals are their everything, from their friends in a lot of cases with horses, to their livelihood with cows calves ans bulls thrown in.
Before I started in this industry I definitely took a good hard look at its morals and ethics. And regarding the animals themselves, I don’t know an industry on the planet who perform or compete with animals at this scale and popularity where animal welfare often comes before the humans involved.

​

My competition horses have chiropractors, regular vet check ups, specially metered food and supplements, injections, more expensive shoes every 6 weeks than any pair of boots I have owned, and anything else they require. Maintenance and feed for my horses is my single biggest expense. More than trucks and houses.
Once they are retired, I have a bad habit of keeping them around, so they live out their life turned out, and still get vets, shoes, etc.

​

The fact is horses are way too expensive to mistreat and in competition the only way to win is to have a healthy and comfortable horse that likes it's job. As far as the cattle goes the same comment applies. In general the majority of the money made from the cattle is still what they bring at a market price so if they're mistreated, sick, and injured that's money lost from the stock contractor. Also another comment is the more livestock animals are monitored the better the chance of them getting treatment from sickness or just natural injuries before conditions get worse.

​

I raised rodeo bulls and roping cattle in the past we took better care of our animals than we did ourselves.

​

I live out west and can tell you by personal testimony that people who own rodeo animals love them more than their own kids (depending on how useless the kid is; mileage varies).

​

I’ve grown up around rodeos, and animals, and everyone I know is kind with the animals. There’s some people who do abuse them, but it’s not common at all, and most people will get involved and try to fix it fast. It’s just a few bad apples on a good tree.

I was around 7 or 8 at the time of this occurence. I was cleaning a room with my brother,sister,and aunt (Moms Side).When I looked up and saw my uncle.He was wearing his usual stuff.Cowboys hat,jeans,boots.Nothing unusual.Except when my aunt saw him she started crying with fear.And my uncle took off down the hallway and slammed my sisters door shut. Now I took off after him because I wanted to see him.It had been awhile since I last saw him.He used to buy us candy all the time and I had really grown fond of him.My aunt was telling me know but me being the bad child I was didnt listen.So I openend that door and nothing was there.Checked the closet.Nothing.Now I was crying.
Turns out my uncle had drowned 2 days prior.
Never saw him again.
Maybe a last visit?

JP Morgan CEO Dimon says Epstein might have been booted - JP Morgan CEO Jamie Dimon seems on in the course of the opening of the brand new French headquarters of US JP Morgan financial institution in Paris on June 29, 2021.Michel Euler AFP Getty PhotographsJPMorgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon testified final week that high financial institution government Marie Erdős and the agency's