The Old Prospector
After a cattle drive, a cowpoke has few free days in town. The morning after a wild night in the saloon, he lounges in a chair on the boardwalk, his feet propped up on the hitching rail.
An old prospector rides into town on his trail-weary mule and stops in front of the cowboy. He dismounts slowly, flips the reins over the rail, then walks around behind the mule. The cowboy stares in surprise, then disgust as the prospector casually lifts the mule's tail, runs an index finger around what's beneath it, and proceeds to smear his finger around his lips as though it were a chapstick, then saunters up onto the boardwalk towards the saloon.
"Ugh!" says the cowpoke," What in heck d'you do that for, you crazy ol' coot?!"
"Eh?" replied the prospector. "Well, sonny, I got chapped lips!"
"Huh," says the cowboy, his demeanor changing as he reflects on some of his own trail related maladies. "Does that make 'em feel better?"
"Nah" says the prospector.
"But it keeps ya from lickin' 'em!"
