I Do Reckon the Queen Is Alive and Prince Harry Wore a Hat, Bless His Heart
Texas forever, y'all
Soooooo-eeeee, all y’all brokeback lil’ bitches! That British feller Harry wore a hat, if the city folk at that glossy Page Six magazine are to believed. Well me? I don’t trust the media – I get all the learnin’ I need from whispers on the wind, the whinny of my horse Nacho, and occasionally, an episode of The Pioneer Woman I’ll leave on in the background while going about my administrative work for the ranch. We just transferred to a digital filing system, ya hear, and this old dog is having a touch of difficulty when it comes to learning iPad.
Don’t worry. It’s still me, Gawker’s occasional royals correspondent. That was me adopting an American vernacular known in the field (the Fort Worth stockyards) as “rodeo speak.” Usually when I write updates about the royal family, I stiffen my upper lip, crack open a pudding, and employ Britishism like “Oi!” But today, I’m all country, buttercup, because Prince Harry took yet another mosey away from his unrecorded podcast and “got into the spirit of things by wearing a cowboy hat to the Fort Worth stockyards, making him look like an Indiana Jones knockoff.”
Allow me to drop into the voice again? We were having fun with it.
Now, here’s where the trouble begins when it comes to findin’ proof of this “cowboy hat.” It seems some high-falutin, pinkie-raisin’soldiers of the Queen are crackin’ the lasso on us rodeo folk, as the Page Six article reports two different Instagram photos of Prince Harry in Texas last night have since been deleted (my nephew who taught me about iPads and podcasts also taught me about Instagram; he’s primed to take over the ranch one day, but he’s got a modern way of doin’ things. Though I suppose that’s a different story for a different campfire…). Even though cowboys like me live outside the law, for legal reasons, I can’t show it to you.
But they’ve got the screenshots, and you bet your last bottle of moonshine I did some clickin’ myself. Here’s an old timey photo mock-up of what Harry looked like in his hat (my nephew Jack also knows a little bit about Adobe Creative Suite).
Now far be it for me to assume I know more than those fast-talkin’ New York City reporters, but that ain’t a cowboy hat. I reckon that’s more of a Western hat. Wouldn’t be a strange sight to see on the Rocky Mountains or the high Uintas. But here in Fort Worth, we call things like we sees ‘em. No two ways about it: Harry ain’t no cowpoke. That there Harry is in his Joanne era. Let’s just hope he fares better than those chap-wearin’ Montana boys in the movies.