gingerhaole:

I should be in a hot bath with a cuppa tea, suckin’ down cough drops, but here I sit with a goofy look on my face, listening to “Bobby In Phoenix” and getting moony over Tim Olyphant’s gray temples. That smattering of salt in his pepper is like the hood ornament on a Rolls Royce — spirit of ecstasy, indeed.

I think that might have been the bracelet my husband wanted. He got this brass one from Vietnam, but the edges were straight-cut, and I had to file the thing down smooth so it wouldn’t cut his wrist up. He wanted it because John Wayne used to wear one all the time, and I have to wonder if that’s why Olyphant wears his. All my husband needs to do to complete his Raylan Givens ensemble is the hat, the Glock… and those motherfuckin’ gray temples. And he thinks I harass him for no reason.