Recent DJ Posts

A man plays an Old West guitar… or “gee-tar.” He plays alongside a small band in a typical run-of-the-mill saloon. Like everyone else in the building, they chew and wear chaps and cowboy hats. Dust covers everything. I am an outsider, (from the town, and literally outside of the saloon) riding my horse through this future ghost town. My horse suddenly collapses and I spill into the middle of the road. My horse is dead. I look around the road and town’s buildings and see countless other horses have died.

I look at my horse and watch it go through the entire decaying process in a matter of seconds. My horse is now just a skeleton. All of the other dead horses are also skeletons. I look on at all the dead horses, still in shock, holding the reigns of my skeleton horse… and tie it up to a post. I enter the saloon, the band still plays and I order me a drink to clear my head. A large cowpie jerk of a man starts shit with me and antagonizes me because I ain't from around here. Chaos ensues.

A large, full-scale old-fashioned wild west bar fight breaks out of epic proportions. All of the classic Western moves are there: man falling off balcony, the Madame’s girls screaming, some guys too drunk to fight; and on top of that adding a healthy dose of classic dream power: telekinesis. All the while the band never stops playing. Finally, at the climax of the fight, the song ends and I am left the last man standing. Exhausted, I am clobbered over the head by the singer/songwriter by his gee-tar, and he is deemed REAL last man standing.