corrente

...as told to the "the farmer", more or less, during traditional "the farmer" family Christmas day dinner celebration/occasion. Some of you may have heard this story too but it goes something like this:

See: George W. Bush dies and goes to Hell. And an arch-fiend greeter angel meets 'W' at the entrance to Hell and informs him that there are many different activities and torments for him to pursue for all eternity while he enjoys his eternal stay in Hell. And, that many of his old friends and associates are also here in Hell should he like to pursue one or another of their particular interests.

Well, ok, agrees 'W', that sounds very nice and fabulous... please show me around the place and point out to me some of the eternal activities my old pals are pursuing these days. Follow me replies the demon - and off they go.

First they come upon Strom Thurmond bent over in a field of cotton. His fingers and hands are bloody stumps and he groans and grunts in agony as he leans over and frantically picks cotton in the blistering heat for all eternity. How'd ya like to pick cotton with Strom for all eternity the fiend asks. Uh, no thanks responds George, please please, lets keep moving. Ok then, agrees the demon.

Next they come upon a naked sweaty Richard Nixon who is rolling around on a hot bed of glowing coals kicking and screaming as Katherine Graham pokes at him with a hot fork. Well, asks the tour guide, you like cook-outs don't you Mr. Bush? We can spit-roast or barbeque your foolish ass Texas style if ya like. No no!....GW pleads and shakes his head and winces in horror, not that! Please, can we continue?

Ok, sure, agrees the angel.

Next they happen a upon a lovely fieldstone garden wall and 'W' listens and hears some pleasing sounds emanating from behind the wall. Whats that he asks his guide. Oh, responds the angel, thats Bill Clinton. Would you like to have a look? Yes indeed responds George. And so the angel grabs 'W' by the scruff of the neck, spreads its great oily black wings, and lifts GW over the wall. On the other side 'W' finds big Bill sitting comfortably in a lawn chair in a shady spot in a small rose garden; his trousers at his ankles and Monica Lewinsky kneeling between his thighs giving him a big slurpy slow motion blow job.

Oh yeah, replies George W, now that looks like the way to spend eternity. Are you sure asks the angel? Yes yes, replies 'W', I was, after all, in a fraternity in college. Well, ok says the angel.... have it your way... and he takes out a small trumpet and blows a short blood curdling screech into the charred horn.

Bill immediately looks up and Monica stops perfoming her faithful routine and turns to see what's going on. Parden me Mr. Clinton, exclaims the tour guide, but I have a brief announcement to make.

MONICA! says the fallen angel.... YOU'RE OUTTA HERE!

Haha! Even grandma "the farmer" got a big hoot out of that one, shook like a bowl full of jelly, and cacked up a half chewed rum ball cookie in the process.

We don't have many 'W'ingnuts or Republicans or "Red-State" Shriekers in "the farmer" family. One or two or three...maybe, I'm not sure of the exact number to be honest with you.. they mostly remain hidden in the hallway shadows in they event they even decide to show up for the festivities in the first place.

I expect David Horowitz and his little 'W'itler Youth movement will attempt to infiltrate my family's holiday family dinner occasions at some point in the very near future. Assuming the little runt doesn't get eaten by cat or carried off by a horned owl in the middle of the night.

*