Some Texas Advice for the Royal Baby

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There has been a frenzy of coverage of the royal baby. In America, we find it difficult to fully understand all the hubbub -- apparently, many feel the same in Britain as well. But since the little tyke has emerged from the royal womb, I figured it was as good a time as any to offer up a little Texas-style advice to him.

We and the Brits have our differences for sure, but we also have an odd fascination with one another. It's an uneasy relationship that is probably rooted in our mutual mistrust of the original colonies -- we were a country, damnit.

Now that little Lord...Prince...or whatever we call him is breathing free air, I thought he could benefit from some homespun Texas wisdom. Giddy up.

Buy a good pair of boots. Even if you don't wear them every day -- most of us don't either -- there is no substitute for a good, solid pair of cowboy boots. They'll protect you against snake bites and make your ass look good for the ladies (you probably won't need it, but still). Also, when it is time to stomp and holler -- and when isn't it? -- there ain't no better way to do it than in your boots.

London has great Indian food and fish 'n' chips, but wait until you try Tex Mex and barbecue. We love England, but the food is bland and sometimes even a little weird. Fortunately, London has amazing fish 'n' chips, which I could eat every day. But one thing it is lacking is Texas barbecue and Tex Mex. Okay, so Benito's Hat is supposed to be really good (though it is my friend who owns the place that tells me that), but you can't possibly expect to get a terrific margarita, great queso or a delicious slab of brisket in foggy London town. Travel a bit and find out what you are missing.

Respect your mama. She gave birth to you. She'll drive you nuts sometimes, but she is your mama. 'Nuff said.

Don't be mean to animals...even when you're huntin'. You might end up hunting foxes, but don't be a jerk. Shoot to kill and kill quick. And whatever critters you don't hunt, treat them well. They are God's creatures, too.

Trucks are better than cars. They just are, buddy. Nothing like driving around in a big old truck to make you feel like the king...even if you are the actual king. The only disadvantage is that your friends will want you to help them move, but since most of your friends will probably live in castles, I'm guessing that won't be an issue.

Our accent ain't as funny as y'all's. I'm going to be honest. We're all a little jealous of how y'all talk. Maybe it's James Bond or something, but it's just so damn cool. Still, you could stand to drop a "fixin' to git ready" or "y'all" into your proper diction. But don't change that Cockney Rhyming Slang. That stuff is awesome.

Dallas sucks. This is a simple fact of life even if they are TECHNICALLY in Texas. God bless Texas and God save the queen.

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