An old cowhand came riding into town on a hot, dry, dusty day.
The local sheriff watched from his chair in front of the saloon as the cowboy wearily dismounted and tied his horse to the rail. The cowboy then moved slowly to the back of his horse, lifted its tail, and placed a big kiss where the sun don’t shine.
He dropped the horse’s tail, stepped up on the walk and aimed toward the swinging doors of the saloon.
“Hold on there, Mister,” said the sheriff. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”
“Reckon you did, Sheriff. I got me some powerful chapped lips.”
“And that cures them?” the Sheriff asked.
“Nope, but it keeps me from lick’en ’em.”