Special Guest Blogger: The Sundance Kid

My name was Harry Longabaugh but I was called the Sundance Kid because i was a youngster when i first broke the law and i earned that name because i was imprisoned in Sundance, Wyoming which could have been worse, i could have been arrested in Colon, Michigan and that's a nickname nobody wants.
My life was full of gun-slinging, daring robberies and thrilling escapes and the fast living did eventually catch up to me, though not until I was in a whole other Continent.
I was the Kid because i first landed in jail at 19 when I headed up North to work on my cousins farm and made my way to Sundance, Wyoming, where I stole a gun and an horse but my first stint as an outlaw was postponed for 18 months courtesy of a magistrate and Harry Longabaugh may have gone in but it was the Sundance Kid that came out.
I got a job as  a ranch hand and a sideline in rustling cattle and horses across Montana and into Canada but the pay was lousy and i had found a new pal in someone with an equally cool name, Butch Cassidy, and his Wild Bunch and we robbed trains and banks and we became well known all across America but to law enforcement mostly.
We were involved in several thrilling gunfights but it was the one where i shot two officers which put a price on my  head, $30,000, and my face on Wanted Posters with Dead or Alive beneath it and i was very keen on it not being dead so Kid and I decided to lay low for a while.
As we were off the grid the long arm of the federal government set the Pinkerton Detective Agency onto us and those guys were not the sort to politely inform us that we were under arrest and that it would be best for everyone involved if we just came along quietly so we went where their eye's couldn't find us, Argentina.
We purchased a 15,000-acre ranch but old habits die hard and we held up a bank which alerted the Pinkerton's where we were so legged it into Chile and I adopted a new name but the name may have changed but the love of a gun fight never and after shooting an Officer, escaped to Bolivia.  
We did consider giving up the outlaw life but that lasted as long as it took to knock over a courier carrying the payroll for the local Silver Mine but we made the mistake of taking the mule to carry the money which embarrassingly had the branding of the Mine on it which led to our last stand but it wasn't the authorities that killed me, it was my pal Butch who finished me when i was fatally wounded and then took his own life, both of us riding off into the sunset.