Captain's Log: Bonito Juarez

I am a firm believer that every man at some point of his life goes through a "gunfighter" stage and needs a picture as proof. That point for me was about ten years ago when I was crazy about Wyatt Earp, Bittercreek Newcomb, Grat Dalton and "Killer" Miller. The thrill of a brace of six-shooters, armadillo skin boots and a duster, gallivanting around the Old West beckoned me from a young age. Traveling much of the Southwest only sharpened my knowledge of the craft. Here in Mexico more than a decade later, I deceided to revisit my gunfighing roots and don my gunfighting garb for a most epic portrait. 1/3 country gentleman, 1/3 bad-ass, and 1/3 mystery is the recipe for the perfect gunfighter pose. Since we are in the year 2009 and I, in fact have no gun, I had to modify, but the formula reamins the same. For the country gentleman, I elude my profession with the painfully elegant Geoffrey Beene fresh-manure-brown polyester suit coat. The bad-ass is captured 1/3 in the jeer, 1/3 in the headwear and 1/3 in the footwear. I chose a deadpan stare, a most threatening bone-colored hat and slick brown calf-skin kickers. For the mystery I chose the sinister "hand in the pocket" and the suspicious all-grey background. Folks, I don't even know what I have in my pocket...I'm that mysterious. As for the ungiving background, I could be in my bathroom, the morgue or in a Michigan cloud. I just need a name...I was thinking Bonito Juarez or 'Tuck the Nasty'.