The Adventures of George W. Bush
You decide to treat your lovely wife to a night of drinking and dining at the local bar & grill. Not the most romantic of places, but it befits you more.
You enter the bustling restaurant with an entourage of secret service agents and walk up to the bar with that arrogant Texas swagger of yours, Laura in tow. "I'll have a Budweiser," you inform the barkeep. "And the missus will have a glass of your finest wine." As the barkeep busies himself with your order, you happen to glance over to your right. Well wonders never cease! It's Senator/Mafioso Ted Kennedy, your longtime nemesis and irreducible defender of Liberal principles, drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Jack.
He looks over at you and lets out a dissatisfied grunt. "Fancy meeting you here," he remarks snidely, disdain laced into his every word. Ted's been a real pain in the ass lately...but what's new? Tonight you feel like relaxing. Pushing politics and personal differences aside, you pat him on the back and smile. "You know, Teddy, we may not get along when it comes to politics, but let's just agree to disagree tonight and get hammered."
Ted shrugs. "Whatever." And he downs another shot of bourbon. One hour later...
Both you and Ted are plastered, to put it mildly. You've spent the last fifteen minutes singing bawdy Irish tavern songs and carrying on like a couple of drunken louts. Laura gave up on you thirty minutes ago and went back to the White House alone. Oh well. She's always been a party pooper! "I tell ya what ol' Teddy ol' pal," you slur. "You're alright....for a whiney liberal gasbag, that is!"
Ted chuckles. "You know what George, you're alright yourself - for a lying, inbred, neo con asshole, that is!" As your inhibitions melt away, you begin to feel a closeness with Kennedy that you never before thought possible. With your newfound respect for the man, you decide to ask him a question that's always lingered in your mind:
You enter the bustling restaurant with an entourage of secret service agents and walk up to the bar with that arrogant Texas swagger of yours, Laura in tow. "I'll have a Budweiser," you inform the barkeep. "And the missus will have a glass of your finest wine." As the barkeep busies himself with your order, you happen to glance over to your right. Well wonders never cease! It's Senator/Mafioso Ted Kennedy, your longtime nemesis and irreducible defender of Liberal principles, drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Jack.
He looks over at you and lets out a dissatisfied grunt. "Fancy meeting you here," he remarks snidely, disdain laced into his every word. Ted's been a real pain in the ass lately...but what's new? Tonight you feel like relaxing. Pushing politics and personal differences aside, you pat him on the back and smile. "You know, Teddy, we may not get along when it comes to politics, but let's just agree to disagree tonight and get hammered."
Ted shrugs. "Whatever." And he downs another shot of bourbon. One hour later...
Both you and Ted are plastered, to put it mildly. You've spent the last fifteen minutes singing bawdy Irish tavern songs and carrying on like a couple of drunken louts. Laura gave up on you thirty minutes ago and went back to the White House alone. Oh well. She's always been a party pooper! "I tell ya what ol' Teddy ol' pal," you slur. "You're alright....for a whiney liberal gasbag, that is!"
Ted chuckles. "You know what George, you're alright yourself - for a lying, inbred, neo con asshole, that is!" As your inhibitions melt away, you begin to feel a closeness with Kennedy that you never before thought possible. With your newfound respect for the man, you decide to ask him a question that's always lingered in your mind: