Howdy You Like Me Now?

Yippee-Ki-Yay, fashion lover! Woo! Check me out! As you can see, I spent quite a bit of time in DC's Old West. Long enough for me to grow my hair back out and exchange my dashing Donegal for this bitchin' biker 'stache. Why, you ask? Simple. People were always mistaking me for a Mormon or a Mennonite or Abe Lincoln's hotter brother and after a while it really started to stick in my craw. And I noticed that all the really badass gunfighters, like f'rinstance every single one of the Earp brothers, had these sweet biker 'staches (and by biker, I mean some random dude on a velocipede). And then I remembered that the second-runner-up in my facial hair poll was the "Doctor Strange." So that cinched it. And of course, it gave me the excuse to get new clothes!

Y'know, as rugged and manly as I am, I just can't help playing the dandy. No dusters and cowboy hats for yours truly! Nope, I was going to be the swellest swell that ever swelled. I still had my hoodie stashed away, so I cut it into shreds and made it the front part of this fancy new vest! The rest of the outfit was mainly bought but I think I really can assemble an ensemble if you don't mind my tooting my own horn. I'm especially fond of the lavender kerchief. It even smells like lavender, thanks to the sachet I sewed into it. Which was handy given that your typical cattle town smells like seven flavors of ass. I fashioned a matching hatband for my derby, which I tilted rakishly, but of course. Now that I've returned to your time period, I'll probably have to design myself a new superhero outfit but that can wait for a while. I'm still digging on these Western duds!

I've got plenty of stories to tell about my Old West exploits, but I'll save most of 'em for some other time. For now, I'll just mention that I was shocked to discover that I had an Old West Earth ancestor named Stockade Boy. He had the power to transform into a 7' high by 5' wide fence made of sharpened timber. Looked just like me, too, if I had been a fur trapper who had never ever shaved. Or bathed. I was even more shocked to discover that Stockade Boy was, in fact, Chameleon Boy, playing this imaginary character as part of an elaborate ruse by the Legion to foil the Time Trapper, who himself was actually a disguised Mopee the Heavenly Help-Mate, who himself was, in fact, an evil double of Princess Projectra accidentally created by the chemical reaction of an experimental element and her lip gloss. And I'm pretty sure there was more to it but I really lost track after that. Honestly, as soon as Chameleon Boy revealed himself, I said, "Ain't no thing, pal, I'll let it slide," but he just kept talking and talking and I swear the Legion's master plan had about five hundred different moving parts and no matter how many times I tried to excuse myself he just would not shut his yapper. Luckily there was a lanky ranch hand nearby with the tightest chaps I'd ever seen, so at least I had something to look at.

Oh, and that format change Jeremy mentioned will be put into effect over the next week or so: all I'm doing is adding a few graphics to make it more obvious that this is a self-contained "team blog." That way, my associates* can post without any kind of confusing preamble from myself and they'll get their own little headshots at the start of the posts, like a byline, kind of.

*The recurring columnists of Team Blockade Boy: Myself (natch), Jeremy (sports commentary), Lenny the Marvel Henchman, Manny the DC Henchman, Lancelot Steele (our relationship expert) and Membros the Bearer of Bad Tidings. For starters. I might add more later on.