A cousin is a wonderful thing to be, and a thing even more wonderful to have, especially when, brought up in the same brand of madness you were, they turn out more than a little different. Then, this fuzzy reflection of yourself, who is also your friend (which, absent the bond of blood, they would in all likelihood not be), will make a habit of bearing in on your ordered little life from what might as well be a parallel universe. So it turned out a couple of months ago that my cousin had gotten his hands on some cheap tickets to see Professional Bull Riding at Madison Square Garden, and I said hell yeah, let’s go.
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