The Real Story
For all of you that were so disturbed about tales of Clinton's infidelity you'll be relieved to read this! This is the real story behind the Clinton-Lewinsky affair.
Bill was hosting a state dinner when at the last minute his regular cook took ill and they had to get a replacement at short notice. The
fellow arrived and turned out to be a very grubby looking foreigner. The President voiced his concerns to his chief of staff but was told that this was the best they could do at such short notice.
Just before the meal, the President noticed the cook sticking his fingers in the soup to taste it and again he complained to his chief of staff about the cook, only to be told that this man was supposed to be a very good chef. The meal went ok but the President was sure that the soup tasted a little off, and by the time dessert came, he was starting to have stomach cramps and nausea. It was getting worse and worse till finally he had to excuse himself from the state dinner to look for the bathroom. Passing through the kitchen, he caught sight of the foreigner cook scratching his ass and this made him feel even worse. By now he was desperately ill with violent cramps and was so disoriented that he couldn't remember which door led to the bathroom.
He was on the verge of passing out from the pain when he finally found a door that opened and as he undid his trousers and ran in, he realized to his horror that he had stumbled into Monica Lewinsky's office with his trousers around his knees!
As he was just about to pass out, she bent over him and heard him whisper in a barely audible voice, "MONICA, PLEASE SACK MY COOK!"
And that is how the whole misunderstanding occurred.
So the other day, my wife and friends I went to this "Ladies Night Club" [a la Chippendale, apparently].
One of the girls wanted to impress the others, so she pulls out a $10 bill. The "dancer" came over to us, and the friend licked the $10 and put it on his butt.
Not to be outdone, another friend pulls out a $50 bill. She calls the guy back over, licks the $50 bill, and puts it on his other butt cheek.
Now the attention is focused on my wife. What could she do to top that? She got out her wallet, thought for a minute, then the banker in her took over.
She got her ATM card, swiped it down his crack, grabbed the 60 bucks, and came home.
The 65 year old woman is naked, jumping up and down on her bed laughing and singing.
Her husband walks in, stops dead in his tracks and stares at her for several minutes.
Finally, the husband says, "You look ridiculous! What on earth do you think you're doing?!?!"
She says, "I just got my checkup and my doctor says I have the breasts of an eighteen year old." She starts laughing and bouncing
He says, "Yeah, right. And what did he say about your 65 year old ass?"
She stops and looks at him briefly with a little smile on her face and says, "Actually, your name never came up."
Once upon a time, there was a nonconforming sparrow who decided not to fly south for the winter. However, soon the weather turned so cold that he reluctantly started to fly south. In a short time ice began to form on his wings and he fell to earth in a barnyard, almost frozen. A cow passed by and crapped on the little sparrow. The sparrow thought it was the end. But
the manure warmed him and defrosted his wings. Warm and happy, able to breathe, he started to sing. Just then a large cat came by and hearing the chirping, investigated the sounds.
The cat cleared away the manure, found the chirping bird and promptly ate him.
The moral of the story:
1. Everyone who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy.
2. Everyone who gets you out of shit is not necessarily your friend.
3. And, if you're warm and happy in a pile of shit,
keep your mouth shut.
One night, Bill Clinton was awakened by George Washington's ghost in the White House. "George, what is the best
thing I could do to help the country?" Clinton asked.
"Set an honest and honorable example, just as I did," advised George.
The next night, the ghost of Thomas Jefferson moved through the dark bedroom. "Tom, what is the best thing I could do to help the country?" Clinton asked.
"Cut taxes and reduce the size of government," advised Tom.
Clinton didn't sleep well the next night, and saw another figure moving in the shadows. It was Abraham Lincoln's ghost. "Abe, what is the best thing I could do to help the country?" Clinton asked.
"Go to the theatre."
Page maintained by Wesley Moore. Copyright(c) Wesley Moore, 3rd. Created: 4/16/99 Updated: 6/9/99