It's Past My Bedtime and the Election Still Sucks
Oh, I'm running late tonight. No time to come up with anything substantive, so here are a couple of jokes cribbed from The Prairie Home Companion, which all we old types listen to.
What's the difference between the Vietnam War and the Iraq war?
George W. Bush had a plan for getting out of the Vietnam War.
Hans Blix says to Colin Powell, "So, Colin, why are you so sure there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq?" Colin says, "Well, we've still got the receipts."
So George Dubya dies, and in the afterlife St. Peter tells him he can choose whether he wants to go to heaven or hell. George starts to say "Heaven, of course," but St. Pete cuts him off. "Don't be hasty," he says, "you get to check them both out before you decide." So George shrugs. He's not normally that curious about things or interested in travel, but he decides to go along with it. He goes down to hell and is surprised to find it's home to the most perfect eighteen holes of golf he's ever seen. In the clubhouse there's a cocktail party going on, and so many of his old friends are there. His daddy's there, Mr. Cheney's there, and Mr. Rumsfeld, Kenny Boy, Mr. Murdoch, that nice Harris lady from Florida, all his favourite folks. Satan's there too, but it turns out he's a great raconteur and a big donor. The night zooms by, and it's the most enjoyable party he's ever been to. A little shaken, George W heads back up to heaven to check it out. It's nice, but kind of...well, boring. Everybody's sitting around discussing ethics and justice, and the talk is kind of going over his head. Time crawls by. Finally, St. Pete comes along and gets him free from this dull crowd, and asks, "So, George, where do you want to spend eternity?" George says, "Well, I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I think I'd rather spend eternity in hell." "So be it," says St. Pete and down George W plummets through abysmal darkness, finally landing in a lake of fire, where he hears the voice of Gilbert Gottfried repeating "Hot enough for ya?" over and over again. All his friends from the night before are writhing in agony, screaming and lamenting. Satan comes along, cackling. George W says, "What's going on? This isn't what hell looked like yesterday!" And Satan says, "Yesterday we were campaigning. Today you voted for us!"
Plus...I'm still all for staying and fighting, but I know plenty of Americans who are talking about decamping to the Old Country. My Old Country, that is. Truthfully, Canada doesn't really want you to move there. They'd rather you come as tourists and spend some money. Here’s a little extra reading on the subject, and if you're still really keen on the idea, you should at least take the test to see if you’re even qualified to be Canadian.
True story: I didn't pass, but Mama Dog did. Being a college dropout screwed me. As I said to Mama Dog, it's a good thing I'm the one who was born there and she's the one with the fancypants degree.
And lastly...take a look at some sincere apologies.
What's the difference between the Vietnam War and the Iraq war?
George W. Bush had a plan for getting out of the Vietnam War.
Hans Blix says to Colin Powell, "So, Colin, why are you so sure there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq?" Colin says, "Well, we've still got the receipts."
So George Dubya dies, and in the afterlife St. Peter tells him he can choose whether he wants to go to heaven or hell. George starts to say "Heaven, of course," but St. Pete cuts him off. "Don't be hasty," he says, "you get to check them both out before you decide." So George shrugs. He's not normally that curious about things or interested in travel, but he decides to go along with it. He goes down to hell and is surprised to find it's home to the most perfect eighteen holes of golf he's ever seen. In the clubhouse there's a cocktail party going on, and so many of his old friends are there. His daddy's there, Mr. Cheney's there, and Mr. Rumsfeld, Kenny Boy, Mr. Murdoch, that nice Harris lady from Florida, all his favourite folks. Satan's there too, but it turns out he's a great raconteur and a big donor. The night zooms by, and it's the most enjoyable party he's ever been to. A little shaken, George W heads back up to heaven to check it out. It's nice, but kind of...well, boring. Everybody's sitting around discussing ethics and justice, and the talk is kind of going over his head. Time crawls by. Finally, St. Pete comes along and gets him free from this dull crowd, and asks, "So, George, where do you want to spend eternity?" George says, "Well, I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I think I'd rather spend eternity in hell." "So be it," says St. Pete and down George W plummets through abysmal darkness, finally landing in a lake of fire, where he hears the voice of Gilbert Gottfried repeating "Hot enough for ya?" over and over again. All his friends from the night before are writhing in agony, screaming and lamenting. Satan comes along, cackling. George W says, "What's going on? This isn't what hell looked like yesterday!" And Satan says, "Yesterday we were campaigning. Today you voted for us!"
Plus...I'm still all for staying and fighting, but I know plenty of Americans who are talking about decamping to the Old Country. My Old Country, that is. Truthfully, Canada doesn't really want you to move there. They'd rather you come as tourists and spend some money. Here’s a little extra reading on the subject, and if you're still really keen on the idea, you should at least take the test to see if you’re even qualified to be Canadian.
True story: I didn't pass, but Mama Dog did. Being a college dropout screwed me. As I said to Mama Dog, it's a good thing I'm the one who was born there and she's the one with the fancypants degree.
And lastly...take a look at some sincere apologies.
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 10:47 PM
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