Werefox Vaquero--Bubba Cheese, Resurrection

   
   "Werefox Vaquero--Bubba Cheese, Resurrection"
   
   Phil Diamond wasn't your garden-variety bling, and if in the vegetation family; indeed, an organic vegetation god, like Sir Gawain mystically mixing up a personal Jesus quest, kinda, with a Green Knight, not personally pursuing the Grail, yet minerals, possibly that held the Eternal Life, allegorically--I don't want to argue this--out of my league; still, Phil Diamond had half a nose piercing, to camouflage his sudden forty-year old growth of nose hair--hey, it happens to the best of us.  Don't hide them from your wife--she knows about your nose hair.  Burt Reynolds mentions pulling them out with a two finger grip--what, you think I'm making this up?
   Phil Diamonds was introspective--to the core, baby--like the savory uniqueness of secret sauce on the Big Mac, though maybe we'll never know.  Phil Diamond knew:  the soul who patriotically probes the culinary mystery of Big Mac secret sauce, though not resisting liberal or conservative media, yet going to the arcane underground, finding the truth of dirt, and Jesus' spit, so simple, so is the super-symmetry of the Planet we have been given, as he made mud with his fluidic nature, reminding of the seas, and having preached from the living water, in a sense, knowing Earth, Sea, and Heaven; plus, full of True Spirit, and thus Phil Diamond just wanted to cover the sports for a local newspaper--have a day-to-day job and a beer at the tavern on his exit; however, the scrolls of print media have faded, yet he knew--mystics will battle androids, or he couldn't get enough upgrades, forgetting how to be a cowboy.  Oh well, an Arizona escape to very many sincerely close gambling atmospheres offered him a purpose of possible promise--but what kind of phony promise is that?  He got in the Buick, super-charged six cylinder with 3-speed auto, electric windows, a pack of organic cigarettes, no fillers or fiber glass included; next, smoked his tires till higher possibilities--at least there was that.  And remember--he drove a Buick, Bucko.  Wondering if an American Car Company will ever forge a Phoenix.  It kind of all goes well with Easter.  We even got a bunny in there.  Eggs too.  His Uncle bought him golf clubs every year for the holiday.  Pleasant times.  Good reflection.  Bubba Cheese was back--in a way; specifically, in a crazy American gumshoe way.