So, a man walks into a bar & says to the bartender; “Give me a Manhattan Mardi Gras!”
So the bartender, a little skeptical says, “Heck! I’ve never made one of those before, how in the world do you make one?”
“Well,” the man says, “You take about 2,900 human beings, 343 tablespoons of New York City firefighters’ remains, 4 jumbo jets, 10,000 droplets of Muslim sweat & blood, 16 hijackers, 50,000 gallons of gasoline, two tons of bricks, glass, steel & wood, a third of a cup of former New York City mayor Rudy Giuliani’s sagging political career, three teaspoons of Dubya’s fuzzy math, one National Archives filled to the brim with classified CIA & FBI documents, 12 bullion cubes of mixed media, six quarts of Osama Bin Laden recorded messages, 20 over-reactionary national holiday-proposing United States congressmen, 10 million brainwashed hypocritical Americans, 30 pieces of American-flagged underwear, 100 sets of American flag manufactured shower curtains with matching blue stars, half-a-million scared foreigners with American flags affixed in their shop windows, 30,000 greedy American merchants fixing to make a buck off the latest human tragedy and nine Orthodox Jewish conspiracies. Then, you pour all the contents into a large brown shopping bag lined with Wall St. woes, overused words like American patriotism and shake well for 1155 days. After that, you let all the contents within the bag settle gradually into Ground Zero in New York City & pour into several 911 We Will Never Forget-God Bless America frosted drinking mugs & you make numerous threatening toasts to those who look Middle Eastern while professing your falsehoods toward Miss Liberty & God & the good old USA. That is how you make it.”
So, the bartender says, “You seem so excited, absolutely excited.”
And the man says, “Sure am! Sure am!”
Then the bartender says, “Well then, why do you (look as if you) want to vomit?”
My journal of life and those lives that surround & influence me, both positively & negatively
Sunday, September 11
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1 comment:
ya know , that was about as appropriate as flooding the birthplace of jazz on a hot august day.
happy days here in the birthplace of modern chaos and revolution , at least for america.
Buzzerkly , ca
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